Stone Hearts and Hand Grenades
by QueenWillie
Summary: RE-POST  *JOINT FIC WITH DARDEILE*
1. Prologue

_**a/n – Big thank you to CuzI'mNiceLikeThat for emailing me some of the missing chapters and to Joyal, I doubt I would have been able to repost if she hadn't kept and uploaded the full story. Thank you so much, I've made sure to keep myself a full copy this time!**_

_**Prologue**_

Marriage. The dictionary definition of the word reads: _the social institution under which a man and a woman establish their decision to live as husband and wife by legal commitments and religious ceremonies._It's simple, to the point, very black and white. The reality, however, tells a different story; marriage is ever changing, growing with the people bound by it. At times you marvel at how easy it all is, at how in complete simpatico you are with your chosen spouse, when you feel like two halves of the one living breathing entity. Others, it feels like a constant uphill battle, days where you struggle to see what you are fighting for, where you look at the person you stood in front of and pledged yourself to wholly and find yourself asking: '_why?_'

These feelings will raise themselves in every marriage, whether it be good or bad, meant to be or doomed. Average couples will find themselves experiencing euphoric highs and crushing lows, moments of sheer contentment can be coupled with the intense feeling of being trapped. You will come to love the things you loathed and the things you love can start to grate on you. If this happens to the average couple, what will happen to those couples who are anything but?

If couples who experience a textbook romance, before their nuptials, can crash and burn after the "_I do's"_ have been exchanged and the dust has settled, what will become of the couple consisting of a former philanderer, a man who saw women as nothing but a means to an end and a woman, who for a formidable part of their past had been nothing but a thorn in his side, working against him, chipping away from the inside?


	2. Battlefield

**Battlefield**

_Don't try to explain your mind  
>I know what's happening here<br>One minute, it's love  
>And, suddenly, it's like a battlefield<em>

_One word turns into a  
>Why is it the smallest things that tear us down<br>My world's nothing when you're gone  
>I'm out here without a shield - can't go back, now<em>

"Oh I did not!" She walked down the hall, tossing her keys on the table in the hallway.

"Yes you did, you always do." He followed her forlornly, closing the door behind him.

Wilhelmina threw her head back and grunted in annoyance, too tired to have this conversation with him yet again. "Enlighten me Daniel, what exactly did I do to fracture your little ego this time?"

Daniel set his jaw firm and looked at his wife of two years. "Shit like that Willie, dismissing my feelings as if they were nothing more than those of a petulant child."

"Stop acting like one then!" She took a deep calming breath, closing her eyes and running her tongue along her top lip. "We went to the show, went into the tent, watched the little stick insects parade the pretty clothes and came home; what happened during that seemingly mundane sequence of events that's got you all pissy?"

He took his overcoat off and hung it in the hallway closet. "Forget it," he said, resigned and walked away from her, into their bedroom.

She stood in her position in the hall and opened her arms, shrugging at his attitude and looking at the now empty hall in bewilderment. When she finally deigned to follow her husband into the bedroom she leaned against the doorframe with her arms folded and watched him walk about the room, indulging in his bedtime ritual.

There was a rigidity to his movements as he walked about the room, pulling at the bow-tie she had, only hours earlier, expertly fastened for him. When he had been smiling at her, instead of sporting the scowl he now wore. He whipped the tie from his collar and threw it on the dresser. He started undoing the buttons on his shirt, not slowly and deliberately like he usually did - because he knew she took pleasure in watching him,- but popping them and pulling at the fabric. He took the shirt off and balled it up, launching it into the corner of the room.

He started violent tugging at his belt buckle. "Daniel..." she began gently.

"What!" He snapped at her, his tone instantly sending her heckles up. She pushed herself up from the door and uncrossed her arms, placing them on her hips, subconsciously going into her battle stance.

"If we're going to fight will you at least do me the courtesy of telling me what we're fighting about!"

He stopped his movements, letting the belt hang loose from his pants; he turned, bare-chested, to face her, mirroring her stance. "What happened after the show?"

She screwed her face up, thinking back and shrugged. "We left."

"As we were leaving."

"I gave a review of the show to Fashion Buzz," she stated, unsure of where he was going.

"And where was I?"

She shrugged again, her shoulders sagging heavier this time. "You were...around."

He took a step towards her. "I'll tell you exactly where I was, I was three feet behind you, standing on the sidelines, holding your purse like a good little puppy. And what did you say when Suzuki asked who _Mr Wilhelmina Slater_ was wearing...which by the way, I fucking hate being referred to as."

"I said..." She sighed.

He started walking around the room, resumed pulling at the belt around him. "You said, '_Whoever I told him to wear_'!"

"So?"

"So? SO!" His voice grew louder as his rage increased. "So you made me look like a fucking idiot, once again. I'm your goddamn husband, not your assistant. And why did they only want to speak to you? When did my opinion stop mattering?"

She walked further into the room. "Daniel, I'm not going through this with you again. It was a fashion show, you were the one who chose to step back from Mode. You were the one who decided to take on the role of CEO, involving yourself more with the publishing side than Editorial. We agreed one of us would have to step away; we couldn't live together and work together all day...we'd kill each other."

"Well we both knew it would have to be me wouldn't it, there wasn't a chance in hell you would willingly relinquish Mode to me."

She bit back a scream of sheer exasperation. "How many fucking times Daniel...don't you realise I could have insisted on us sharing the role of CEO? I own just as much of Meade as you do! I chose to let you have the power of CEO!"

"Exactly!" He clapped his hands together, showing her they had reached the pinnacle of his current anger. "YOU chose! Just like you choose everything; you choose where we eat, you choose what I wear, you even chose to make us live in your apartment, everything is you!"

"Is it my fault you were at the back of the queue the day God was handing out backbones?" she yelled at him, her irritation with his childishness was reaching boiling point.

"Nice Wilhelmina...really nice." He shook his head at her.

She sighed, deflating slightly, "I'm sorry...that was uncalled for. I don't want to fight with you."

"Too bad...I'm _choosing_to fight."

"Well I'm choosing to ignore you."

He reached his hands to his hair, pulling at it, making it stand on end. "God Willie! Do you have any idea how emasculating it is being married to you?"

"Well seen as you make a point of telling me every other fucking day, yeah I think I do."

"Don't start with the sarcasm."

She walked across the room and sat on the bed with a thump. "Daniel, you knew who I was when you married me, I haven't changed."

He turned to look at her, his voice came out low and unnerving. "Oh but you made damn sure I did."

She looked away from him, shaking her head, determined not to answer. She was exhausted by his constant need for validation, by him forever instigating fights in order to assert his masculinity. She just wanted to crawl into bed and sleep. When she had married him, she knew it wouldn't be easy, she wasn't an idiot; but she had genuinely believed the pressure would come from third parties, that the tension would be caused by outsiders. She truly believed her and Daniel were solid, that the first two years of their relationship before they married had proved to each other that they were willing to go the distance. Knowing that they could withstand whatever was thrown at them as long as they faced it together.

She fiddled with her jewellery, taking her time placing it on the dresser beside the bed. When she looked up Daniel was still staring at her, waiting for her to bite back. She saw the glean in his eye; he was enjoying this. She hated backing down from a fight, but if she was honest with herself, she hated fighting with her husband even more. He was the one person who was supposed to have her back, the person for her to lean on.

Swallowing her pride and her better instinct, she stood and walked to him; she tried to cup his face but he shirked his head from her touch. She exhaled, "Daniel, we can't keep doing this..._I_ can't keep doing this."

He heard the melancholy and the weariness in his wife's voice and he felt his muscles uncoil slightly, allowed himself to relax. He inclined his head back to her and this time he allowed her to place her hands on his face. He hated doing this, hated fighting with her, hated making her feel responsible for everything. He knew it wasn't entirely her fault; he had happily taken the back seat, allowing his wife to revel in the limelight. It wasn't her fault that he had removed himself so much that he had become nothing more than Wilhelmina Slater's husband. The majority of the blame lay with him, but he couldn't help resenting her for stealing all the notoriety and when she made slights about him in public it reminded him of the woman who had worked against him for so long; not the woman he had gradually and surprisingly fallen in love with.

Looking into her eyes, he visibly sagged. He could kick himself for what he was letting their marriage become: a constant battle. When they were inside these walls he loved her more completely than he had done anyone, but outside; his insecurities set in and the fear of becoming invisible eclipsed his feelings for her.

"Daniel...I don't know what else to say other than that I love you. You know that the media expects a certain image from me. You know that it helps the success of our magazine...but I'll rein it in if it's going to do this to us."

Looking down, he sighed and brought his hands up to run his fingers down her arms. He looked up into the eyes that held the ability to terrify and arouse him in equal measure and suppressed the small shameful part of him that was pleased that he could cause Wilhelmina Slater to hurt. "Just get them to stop calling me Mr Slater...I think after two years it's about time they called you Mrs Meade."

She smiled at him, "Done. Anything else?"

He shook his head, slowly. "That'll do...I'm sorry."

She leaned in to kiss him, drawing it out as she felt his hold on her arms tighten. She hooked her fingers into his pants and pulled him close to her. "Make it up to me then." She whispered, smirking.

He smiled before moving in to kiss her; this was one aspect of their marriage where there were no problems whatsoever.

_Both hands tied behind my back for nothing, oh, no  
>These times when we climb so fast to fall, again<br>Why we gotta fall for it, now..._

_I never meant to start a war  
>You know, I never wanna hurt you<br>Don't even know we're fighting for  
>Why does love always feel like a battlefield<em>

When she woke the next morning it was to feel her body reacting to his touch. Groggily, she began to come round from her slumber, aware of his form spooned around her from behind. He was lazily placing kisses on her shoulder, his hand draped over her torso, fingers trailing over her breasts. She rolled until she was on her back and smiled up at him sleepily. "Good morning."

"Morning." He dipped his head to her, his mouth leaving light kisses along her jaw-line and neck as his hand crept lower beneath the cover, increasing pressure. She arched her neck, letting the sensation wash over her, all the while craning her neck to look at the clock on their bedside table. She pushed at his biceps, "Daniel...we don't have time."

He used his weight to push her back down to the mattress. "We're in charge, we can make the time." His mouth latched back onto the skin under her chin.

She moaned, almost relenting to the feeling as he continued his exploration beneath the sheets. Resolute, she pushed him back again. "Daniel, I have a shoot all morning, a final layout meeting in the afternoon and meeting scheduled in every available 5 minute slot in between."

He rolled back onto the mattress, staring up at the ceiling. "Fine." He huffed.

She rolled her eyes, careful not to let him see, not wishing to incite another argument when they had only just made up. Placing a smile firmly on her face she turned to him, propping herself up on his chest. "Come get me in the studio at lunch time, I'll let you take me out for a _bite,"_ she said suggestively.

He dragged his eyes from the ceiling to meet hers and she pouted at him, a childish expression which never failed to make him smile and she damn well knew it. "Okay." She smirked at his answer and pecked his lips once, before pushing herself from him and getting up from the bed. She faced him, putting on her robe. "Are you getting up?"

He cleared his throat and gestured to where the bedclothes had slightly tented at his groin. "Uh...give me a minute." He closed his eyes. "Anna Wintour in a bikini, Anna Wintour in a bikini," he repeated to himself like a mantra, trying to appease his condition.

She laughed at him and walked from the room, glad they were once again speaking.

_Can't swallow our pride  
>Neither of us wanna raise that flag,<br>If we can't surrender  
>Then, we're both gonna lose we have, oh, no<br>Both hands tied behind my back for nothing oh, no  
>These times when we climb so fast to fall, again<br>I don't wanna fall for it, now..._

At a little after noon he walked into the studio. It was decked out in a Film Noir theme; the models were hanging about looking bored, and as he scanned the vast space looking for his wife his eyes fell on a familiar face; he grinned, walking up to the woman who was currently preening one of the models.

"Hey you."

The woman turned and smiled. "Well if it isn't Mr Slater," she said, smiling.

He set his mouth in a line. "That's kind of a sore spot Amanda, glad it's catching on," he said sarcastically.

She scrunched her face up. "Sorry."

He waved a hand, dismissing the faux-pas. "It's fine, have you seen Wilhelmina?"

"She's behind the set, trying to convince the photographer to come out and shoot, he's being a bossy-boots."

Daniel smirked, imagining the man trying to boss his wife around, and went in search of her. He walked behind the set and stopped in his tracks, watching Wilhelmina interact with the man.

"James darling, you know just how much I admire you, personally as well as professionally." She placed a hand on the man's arm, he lifted his head to her and she cocked an eyebrow as their eyes met.

"Dear me Wilhelmina, I wonder what your pretty boy husband would say if he heard you talking like that." He smirked at her, speaking in a hushed tone.

"Yes, I wonder," Daniel spoke, startling the pair.

The photographer smiled and left them alone. Daniel kept his eyes on Wilhelmina, and as soon as the man was out of sight she rolled her eyes, snorting. "Thank God, that man is a colossal pain in the ass."

"Yeah, it really looked like you couldn't wait to get shot of him." The sarcasm was blatantly dripping from each word.

She looked at him incredulously. "Are you serious?"

"What's with all the _personally and professionally_bullshit?" he drawled, doing a poor imitation of her.

"He was being a diva! He's a notorious flirt Daniel, if a few kind, suggestive but ultimately EMPTY words give him the ego boost he needs to go out there and start clicking away, then so be it."

"Funny, I seem to remember your tactics being more along the lines of scaring not schmoozing."

She held her hand to her eyes, pinching the bridge of her nose, on disbelief that they were right back where they had been last night. "Daniel, it's James Hickey, the man is world renowned for Christ's sake, I've been trying to bag him for Mode for the past six months. He knows how sought after he is, I give him any of my usual brand of persuasion he will pack up his things and saunter right on down to one of our competitors."

He took a deep calming breath, still reeling from the look he had seen on her face when speaking to Hickey. "Fine, whatever; are you ready?"

"Ready?"

He nodded at her slowly. "Yes. Ready. Lunch, remember?" He punctuated each word sharply.

"I can't Daniel, the shoot was supposed to start two hours ago, and thanks to James's antics I'm going to be behind schedule for the rest of the day. I can't squeeze you in."

"_Squeeze me in?_I'm your husband, not a manicure."

"Look, I've already had to cancel meetings and I'm going to be late for the final layout approval." The snappish tone was returning as she brushed past him, back to the front of the set.

He followed her round and found her standing behind Hickey's shoulder. "Fabulous, oh you really are a visionary dear," she sweet talked him. He hated this side of her, the complete fake side she trotted out whenever she needed something.

He walked to stand beside Amanda and folded his arms, grimacing.

"What's with the sulking?"

"Nothing." He looked away and Amanda laughed.

"You are a total five year old."

"Don't, okay? I don't need someone else making me feel like a child." He sighed. "What are you doing here anyway?"

"Well, I'm a stylist Daniel, what do you think I'm doing?"

"Staying out the way and looking as if you know what you're doing?"

"Correct." The two of them shared a laugh.

Amanda watched him watch his wife, saw the hardness of his stare as she continued to praise the egotistical photographer, placing light touches on him whenever he paused to show her the shots he had taken. "Daniel...he really was being a pain, she's just trying to placate him for the sake of the shoot."

"Yeah...at my expense."

Amanda moved until she stood in front of him. "I'm serious Daniel, she's been working her ass off all morning, trying to get this mother up and running, complaining that if she didn't get it sorted she wouldn't be able to see you. Between Hickey and that stroppy bitch of a model, it's a miracle we got started at all."

"Stroppy model?" Daniel questioned her.

"Yeah, " Amanda pointed to a young blonde woman, sitting on one of the director's chairs at the side. "She's been a demanding little douche since the moment she stepped in here. Wilhelmina's about to tear her face off." She laughed.

"Oh really?" He straightened up and began walking to the frowning young model who was obviously recovering from a scolding _à la Slater_.

"Daniel, what are you doing?" Amanda whispered harshly as she watched him go.

He turned, still walking backwards. "I'm just going to, how did you say it? _Placate_ her...for the sake of the shoot, of course."

Amanda watched worriedly as Daniel took a seat next to the girl, she watched Wilhelmina and saw her clock him too. Her face hardened as she took in the sight of her husband clearly flirting with the model. He was trying to antagonise her; let him, she thought, turning her concentration back to the shoot.

Amanda marched over to where Daniel was sitting joking with the blonde. "Daniel, stop this. You do realise your wife is right over there right?...and you do remember that she's terrifying beyond all reason?"

He leaned back in the chair to look at Wilhelmina. "And you do realise she's practically got her fucking tongue in that guy's ear?"

Amanda shook her head. "Jealously is so unattractive on you, Daniel."

In the distance, the photographer shouted for the model Daniel was speaking with. She got up and made her way to the set, Daniel made a show of following her with his eyes, making sure his wife saw him as he followed her over. He stood beside Wilhelmina and could feel the animosity coming off her in waves.

Her blackberry trilled in her pocket, pulling it out she opened a message from Marc; she was needed upstairs urgently. Two advertisers were currently fighting over space after both being told they would receive prominent places in the magazine.

Groaning and rolling her eyes to the back of her head, she dimly registered how much easier it had been when they were both in charge. Especially considering she currently had no creative director to lean on. "Shit," she whispered.

"Problem?" Daniel asked, still staring ahead.

"I'm needed upstairs but I can't leave the shoot unsupervised."

"I'll do it." He shrugged.

She turned to him and noticed his gaze, still on the model. "Oh I'm sure you'll do a wonderful job, if you manage to register any other people in the room other than the Russian twig."

"I'm sure I won't be able to flirt with the photographer quite as well as you do, but I was a fashion Editor for three and a half years."

"In title at least," she bit back at him.

He laughed, mirthlessly. "Look I'm offering to help you, take it or leave it."

She took a deep intake of air through her nose. "Fine...thank you," she said through gritted teeth. Turning to the photographer, her expression instantly transformed into a dazzling smile. "James, my darling, I'm afraid I have to leave you. There's a crisis upstairs that I simply cannot let the buffoons that call themselves Editors handle; but Daniel will see you through the rest of the session."

James Hickey stopped snapping with his camera and faced her, he took her hand and brought it to his mouth, kissing it while looking in her eyes. Daniel rolled his eyes at the cheap gesture. "So lucky to have such an attentive husband, Wilhelmina." Hickey smiled at her.

"Quite, I must say it is nice that he's always free. Sitting at a big desk all day, pretending like he knows how to run a company, isn't as time consuming as you might think. It's handy that I can trot him out whenever it's required," she said, a malicious smile curving her lips.

Daniel felt himself redden at her words, could feel his anger with her escalating even higher. Was this not the exact same thing she had promised to tone down? He glared at her when she faced him again, she looked him up and down with disdain, before walking past him, deliberately bumping his shoulder with hers as she past.

_I never meant to start a war  
>You know, I never wanna hurt you<br>Don't even know we're fighting for  
>Why does love always feel like a battlefield,<em>

_Better go and get your armour  
>I guess you better go and get your<em>

He stayed for the remainder of the shoot, although he was superfluous to what was happening. Wilhelmina's words had effectively castrated him in the photographer's eyes and he paid him no heed.

The reptilian grin his wife had worn as she stalked out the studio was firmly etched in his mind; it was times like these when he remembered just who he had married. He may have been able to move past the steely exterior and see the woman she was, but that didn't take away from the fact she had wronged him greatly in the past. He had promised her before she agreed to marry him that he would let it all go, that he had to for the sake of their relationship. But had he really?

Could he really forget she had used his father, driven his parents apart, played quisling to Alexis when she had first tried to dominate him after her return. When she spoke to him and looked at him like she had done today, emasculating him, beating away at his confidence in front of important people in the industry, could he honestly say that it didn't throw their turbulent past in his face?

He watched the photographer clear away his things and leave the studio without so much as acknowledging Daniel's presence in the room. He felt a vibration in his pocket and pulled out his phone.

_From: Willie_

_To: Daniel_

_MSG: Layout a disaster, will be here all night. Don't wait up, not that you would actually bother to._

He snapped the phone shut, reeling. He could imagine her condescending tone even as he read her words. One by one the people in the room left, until only he and the young model he had been speaking with remained: she was obviously waiting for him to speak to her. He grinned, biting his lip. He hadn't noticed the other remaining person in the room until she felt him pull on his shoulder. "Whatever you're thinking, Daniel, don't do it," Amanda warned him.

He lifted her hand from his shoulder and dropped it by her side. "What's the harm in a drink?"

"Daniel...you love Wilhelmina."

"Maybe, but what if I just want to be in someone's company who doesn't make me feel like a second class citizen for a change? A drink's a drink Amanda, totally innocent," he reasoned.

Amanda watched him walk to the girl and flash her the same smile she used to be on the receiving end of, back when she was Monday's girl. She shook her head as she watched him make what could turn out to be the biggest mistake of his life.

_We could pretend that we are friends, tonight  
>And, in the morning, we wake up, and we'd be alright<br>'Cause, baby, we don't have to fight  
>And I don't want this love to feel like a battlefield,<br>Why does love always feel like a battlefield,  
>I guess you better go and get your armour...<em>

The layout had been saved much quicker than she anticipated. At 1am she let herself into the apartment. Yawning as she closed the door, she walked down the hall, massaging the tired muscles of her neck. She paused outside her bedroom door, part of her hoping Daniel was already asleep in order to avoid yet another spat, the other wanting him to still be up so they could work this all out before it got out of hand.

She twisted the knob of her bedroom door and froze as it swung open. Her gaze was fixated on the bare back, moving up and down on top of a body on the bed. She watched the hands sneak round the body and grip it tightly, her eyes caught a glint of light reflecting from the wedding band.

The man underneath sat up, crushing his body to the blonde riding on top of him. His eyes were squeezed shut as he thrust upwards. She had no way of knowing how long she stood there, no way of telling how long it took for his eyes to open and meet with hers across the room.

His expression was horrified, he tried to push the woman from him. "Shit! Stop...fucking stop!" he shouted.

The body moving on top slowed. "What!" she exclaimed, breathless. The young woman followed his gaze and she paled as she saw Wilhelmina at the door.

Willie could feel her heart pounding in her chest, felt her stomach constrict and could hear nothing but the roaring of blood in her ears. She wanted to turn and flee, she wanted to walk over to that bed and kill them with her bare hands. Instead she fought to maintain her calm exterior. "You know Daniel, you really shouldn't just stop like that. Do you know how frustrating that can be for a woman?" she asked him, arching her eyebrow.

She turned on her heel and walked down the corridor to her kitchen, amazed that her legs were still supporting her. Daniel pushed the body off him and jumped from the bed, grabbing his discarded boxers and hopping down the hall as he tried to put them on. "Willie! Willie wait!" he called after her.

He found her standing at the door. "You might want to put more than that on, it's cold outside." She told him, no feeling in her voice.

"Willie...I'm sorry, I fucked up...can we talk about this?"

She looked at her husband and felt as if she was seeing a stranger. "Talk about what? About how, the second my back is turned, you take it as an opportunity to bring your little whore over?"

"It's not..."

"I'm fighting to stay calm Daniel, but I'm telling you if you try and tell me it's not what I think it is, when I just walked in on you fucking another woman in our bed I will not be held responsible for my actions." Her voice took on a dangerous edge.

"Willie..." he began again and reached for her.

"Don't touch me, don't ever fucking touch me!" Her voice rose for the first time and Daniel could hear the hysteria creep in.

"Wil –..." He tried for a third time, panic and desperation setting in as the reality of the irrevocable damage he had caused his marriage set in. He was cut off by a shuffling from the other end of the hall. Wilhelmina glared at the girl, daring her to look up into her eyes. She kept her head down as she hurried forward, having no choice but to pass the couple if she wanted to leave the apartment. She stopped in between them and bravely raised her head to attempt to look Wilhelmina in the eye.

"I'm so...I'm so sorry." she said, her voice breaking.

Wilhelmina regarded the girl in front of her, staring deep into her eyes, the hatred emanating from her stare. Without warning she swung her hand and gave the girl a back handed, stinging slap across the face. The stone from her wedding ring leaving a small but perfect line where it cut the skin.

"Get the fuck out of my house, Amanda."

_I never meant to start a war  
>You know, I never wanna hurt you<br>Don't even know we're fighting for  
>Why does love always feel like a battlefield, a battlefield, a battlefield<em>


	3. It Ends Tonight

**It Ends Tonight**

_Your subtleties  
>They strangle me<br>I can't explain myself at all.  
>And all the wants<br>And all the needs  
>All I don't want to need at all<em>

Daniel stood there, petrified, unable to take his eyes off his wife. He heard Amanda leave the apartment, and a distinct sob echoed through the walls just before the girl could close the door behind her. With each breath he took, he felt himself growing less and less brave, as the fire in Wilhelmina's eyes burned through him.

Wilhelmina looked down, breathing heavily, her forehead furrowed as the most difficult thoughts crossed her mind. She took a few steps forwards and walked past him, not looking at him. He turned on his heels and watched her back draw further away, retreating into another room. He followed her, tentatively, hoping she would speak.

He wanted her to scream at him, to hit him, anything but that cold wall she was putting up between the two of them.

"Willie?" he whispered, on the kitchen's threshold. "Please, listen to me."

Wilhelmina kept walking until she reached the dining room, and pulled a chair out, sitting down. She was staring ahead, her eyes were blank. Her head slightly tilted to the side, she looked like a rag doll. He wanted to shake her, but didn't have the strength, nor the courage, to touch her.

"Wilhelmina, for God's sake?"

He felt stupid, following her, clad only in his boxers while she was fully dressed. He walked up to the table and pulled the chair next to her and sat on the edge, stretching his arms out trying to take her hands, but she shirked from his touch, not deigning him a look.

He put his head in his hands and groaned. "I'm sorry," he said. "I'm an asshole, I'm sorry. Believe me, Willie, I'm sorry."

"Stop it," she said, her voice monotone. He looked up and her eyes were still emptily staring across the room, somewhere undefined, anywhere but him. "Go put some clothes on."

Daniel frowned. "Can we please talk about this, before we make any decision?" he asked, with a hint of desperation, restlessly shifting on the edge of the chair.

"No," she said. "You need to go put some clothes on. And you need to get out."

"Wilhelmina don't-"

"Daniel, you really need to get out, before I hurt you," Wilhelmina stated, the dangerous edge in her voice scaring him for real. "Get out now."

He looked down at her hands, placed on the table, clenched into fists, so tightly her knuckles were white. He stood up slowly and turned his back on her, taking a few steps. "Wilhelmina, please," he tried, facing her again.

"Go," she repeated, unclenching her fists and splaying her hands over the surface, lowering her gaze upon her own hands, as if studying them. Daniel knew her too well, and he knew her eyes were seeing nothing, now, but the scene she had witnessed minutes earlier. He knew her so well, and was aware that it would be burned in her memory forever, and she would never stop playing it.

"I screwed up," he said, his voice cracking slightly. "I love you. I really do."

Wilhelmina bit her bottom lip and smiled bitterly, staring into space. She snorted and shook her head imperceptibly. "Yeah," she whispered to herself. "Of course you do."

She couldn't tell exactly how long she remained in that same position, not moving a single muscle. She could hear the noises from the bedroom as Daniel fumbled with his things, but as for the rest she was in a world of her own. She felt betrayed, ashamed, ridiculed, and she had let it happen. She felt guilty for it, she felt like she had let him get to her, the last person she would have ever expected to.

When he came back into the room, he was fully dressed, and had a bag over his shoulder. He tentatively stepped inside the room, staying at a safe distance, and dropped the bag on the floor loudly, making his presence known. "Do you really want me to go?" he asked.

She stood up and looked at him, really looked at him. They just stood there, staring into each other's eyes across the room: he was pleading her, she was pushing him out for the last time. She took off the coat and threw it on the table, turning round and walking up to the counter. Daniel's eyes followed her as she moved across the kitchen, busying herself with the most trivial things. She was ignoring him, he knew that, and it angered him.

"Look at me, Wilhelmina." he said, his voice shaking with anger.

She moved to the fridge and opened the door, her head no longer in sight. He took a few more steps to have a better visual, and when she closed the fridge's door he saw something that broke his heart. There, in those beautiful eyes, those eyes that he loved to see lighting up in sheer enjoyment, was a gleam. It was invisible to an outsider's eye, but he was her husband, and it was evident for him.

She leaned her arms against the fridge and rested her forehead against it. He could see her shoulders rising and falling in time with each deep breath she was taking to calm herself down. She pushed herself off the cold metal and turned to look at him again. "You're going down."

He was bewildered, at those words. "What…"

"You heard me," she hissed, and for the first time in four years, he saw the woman who was walking down the aisle, ready to marry his father. He saw the woman who announced she was expecting a child only to gain her share of the company. He saw the woman who, in a softball uniform, had told him he was no longer the Editor in Chief. "You're going down."

Daniel took a step back, frowning at the coldness in her voice. He turned his back on her and walked away, grabbing his overnight bag on his way. Before going, however, he turned to look one last time at her. She was leaning against the counter, heavily on her hands. Her head hanging down in between her shoulders.

After the countless times he'd tried to, without success, he'd managed to do it the only time he hadn't meant to. He had broken her.

_The walls start breathing  
>My mind's unweaving<br>Maybe it's best you leave me alone  
>A weight is lifted<br>On this evening  
>I give the final blow<em>

Marc and Wilhelmina's new assistant, a young girl named Leslie, were leaning against the girl's desk, staring ahead through the big circular window that overlooked Wilhelmina's office. The golden curtains had been drawn, blocking everyone's curious stares out.

"Are you sure she's ok?" Leslie asked, tilting her head.

Marc nodded wordlessly. When Wilhelmina had told him what had happened, he had found it hard to come out with any consolatory word. He was whipsawed, completely caught in the middle of something he had no idea how to handle. He'd been home, the night before, when Amanda had barged in crying. He had found it hard to calm her enough to know what the tragedy was all about, and when she'd told him he'd felt the blood freezing in his veins.

Only minutes later, he'd received Wilhelmina's call. Amanda had excused herself, locking herself into her room. He'd stared at his friend's door for a few seconds before answering Wilhelmina's call, and her voice had worried him even more than Amanda's reaction. Wilhelmina had asked him to go to her apartment as soon as possible, and he knew it meant right now. When she'd opened the door and had let him in, he hadn't failed to notice her hand was bleeding: he immediately knew how, as soon as he stepped inside the dining room, where the ancient oil lamp laid shattered on the floor.

Whatever fit of rage she must have had was clearly over, he thought as she talked to him with an almost scary rationality. She explained in details how she would terminate Amanda's contract with the magazine first thing in the morning, but most of all she carefully explained how she would call her lawyers and have the divorce papers prepared in the blink of an eye.

He hadn't asked her how she felt, he hadn't told her he thought it was too rushed, especially he hadn't tried to side with Amanda, in this, because he knew Amanda was on the wrong side of the barricade this time. Still, he couldn't turn his back on her, because he'd seen the consequences of her deed on the girl. She was slowly sinking under the weight of guilt and shame.

If only he could tell them both that it was exactly how the other felt.

"She's been in there for three hours already," Leslie said for the third time that morning. "She's not taking any calls, she's banned me from going in and she canceled her meetings. That's not like her, Marc," the girl whispered. "Something must be wrong."

Marc looked at the young assistant, shrugging. Of course he wouldn't tell her the truth, even though he knew it was just a matter of time before everyone knew about it. As soon as the divorce papers would be ready, the press would be all over the situation, and they would be bombarded with phone calls and requests from entertainment networks.

"Maybe you should go in," Leslie proposed, turning her back on the big window and sitting on her chair, the same chair that once belonged to the young man standing next to her.

Marc sighed and nodded. He knocked on the door and, when he had no answer, he turned the doorknob and pushed the door lightly, sneaking inside. The office was in the dark, as every curtain had been pulled down, the only light came from what little the big curtain let through. He walked in and closed the door behind him. The desk was empty, and he scanned the room, recognizing the form of her body as she lay on the chaise.

"Willie?" he whispered. As his eyes adjusted to the half-light, he saw her head turned slightly towards him, acknowledging his presence, and then facing away again. His heart hurt for her, for the pain she must be going through. No matter how she tried to shove the pain away by firing Amanda, and planning the best ways to kill Daniel Meade, Marc was well aware of the downright terrible state she was in.

She had worked so hard to trust Daniel, and she had put all of herself into this, trying to get _him_to trust her. She had accepted that she would always be the one with a regrettable past; that she would have to compromise, that she would have to really let him in. She had put all of her efforts into making the marriage work, and Marc had been with her through it all, he had seen how she had really tried, and that was the reason why seeing her now, reduced to a self-pitying little girl, made him so angry.

When his legs hit the soft material of the chaise, he looked down at her, concern clear on his features. She had her eyes fixated on the wall, not really looking at it. She was wearing a silky orange blouse with a boat neck, and a white skirt that reached her knees; her hair was combed into a perfect low ponytail and her make-up was absolutely perfect. Still, he could see through her, through the mask and the appearances, he could really look at her and tell that she was broken-hearted.

He sat down on the edge of the chaise, and placed his hand on her leg. When she didn't move, didn't protest or complain at such a contact, he maneuvered his body carefully and lay next to her, draping an arm around her waist and resting his chin on her shoulder.

"I love you, Willie," he whispered. "And I know you will twist my nipples when you get out of this semi comatose state, for this, but I don't care. I'll stay for as long as you need me."

Wilhelmina didn't answer, nor move. However, the only thing she did was take his hand in hers and squeeze it. He smiled and squeezed her hand in return, that small gesture enough to know she was allowing him to stay.

_When darkness turns to light,  
>It ends tonight<br>It ends tonight_

Claire barged inside the room, walking up to the window and pulling the curtains open. A growl in the room told her she'd managed in the task she'd set to accomplish. He was awake.

She stood before the window, arms folded on her chest, looking at the man tossing underneath the sheets, trying to shield his eyes from the blinding light of the morning.

"Come on," Claire snapped, reaching for the hem of the sheet and pulling at it. He shivered a little, as his skin made contact with the cool air; he sat up reluctantly, his hand still up to his eyes, looking at his mother. He couldn't see her face, for she was standing directly in the light coming from the window. He could make out her shadow, and even that wasn't welcoming.

He blinked a couple of times, trying to get accustomed to the light, and when he could finally see his mother's features clearly he lowered his hand. Leaning against the headboard, he stared into his mother's eyes, ready for the questioning. When he'd called her, the night before, asking her if he could sleep there, she'd told him that he could, without another question. He hadn't told her anything yet, they hadn't had the time for long conversations, but had hinted at a fight with Wilhelmina.

Judging by the quizzical look on the woman's face, he knew she wanted him to tell her what had happened.

"Uhm…Thanks for letting me stay, Mom," he started, smiling weakly. When Claire's face remained straight he looked down on his hands, fumbling with a corner of the pillowcase. "We fought bad, Mom."

"I got that much," Claire said, taking a few steps forward. "What did she do?" she asked, doing nothing to tone down the hardness in her voice.

Daniel looked up at her, and couldn't bring himself to tell her it had not been Wilhelmina's fault, but his. He just couldn't tell his mother that he had cheated, just like his father, that he had betrayed the woman he'd sworn to love for the rest of his life only because he had felt weak.

"The usual shit," he lied. "Nothing really, but I wasn't in the mood to deal with her."

Claire shook her head. "Daniel, you do realize what your prenuptial agreement states?" she said.

He rolled his eyes and stood up hastily. "Yes, you never fail to remind me mum," he snapped, grabbing a clean shirt from the bag he'd prepared the night before. "We're not getting a divorce," he said, lying again, this time to himself too.

"Daniel, be careful what you do," Claire hissed. She stormed off, slamming the door behind her. As she paced the corridor, concerned, she couldn't help but fume at his son's stupidity. She felt on edge every time they had a fight, because of the damned prenuptial, in which they'd stated that, in case of divorce, the person who was to blame for the separation would have to resign half his patrimony to the other one.

They'd done that to show everyone they were serious about their relationship, to show that they were ready to put everything at stake because they knew their love would last. Claire couldn't sleep, at night, if she thought of the consequences of what it might involve. Wilhelmina would be 75% owner of the Meade Empire, and that would leverage them both out.

She made up her mind and decided it was time to have a chat with Wilhelmina, again.

An hour later she stepped out of the elevator, immediately gaining a few looks from the people standing in proximity. She stormed off, walking the tube quickly and turning right. When she found herself standing in front of Wilhelmina's office, she could tell immediately that something was wrong. The young girl that was usually sitting at the desk, Leslie, was nowhere to be seen. The long golden curtains were closed, shielding the inside of the office, protecting its contents.

With the usual determination, she marched up to the door, swinging it open. She stood on the threshold, as the semi light of the room closed around her. The light entering from the opened door lit up Wilhelmina's desk, and she could see that no one was in there.

She took a few steps inside the room and was surprised to see Wilhelmina and Marc, on the chaise, the man hugging his friend and whispering a few words now and then. She closed the door and Marc turned his head, feeling the presence in the room. He sat up, his hand sliding out of Wilhelmina's grip, and looked up at Claire. The older woman understood immediately that there was something wrong, with the picture, something terribly wrong.

"What happened?" she asked Marc.

Marc shot a glance at Wilhelmina, whose eyes still hadn't left the undefined spot on her right, and shrugged, standing up. "Ask her," he whispered, and with a last sad look at his boss he left the room, leaving the two women alone.

"Wilhelmina?" Claire whispered, as soon as she heard the door being closed again.

Finally, her daughter-in-law turned her head towards her, looking up. Wilhelmina shifted from her position, sitting up slowly, using her hands as leverage. She placed her feet back on the floor and stood, face to face with Claire.

"He cheated on me."

Claire's heart skipped a beat. All of her fears, all of the hopes that Daniel would be different from Bradford, vanished with those simple four words and all they implied. She forgot the prenup, she forgot that the woman who was standing before her had tried to ruin her life, she forgot the hatred. She took a step closing the distance between their bodies and slid an arm around the other woman's neck, pulling her into a hug.

Wilhelmina stiffened at the woman's gesture, but after the first impact she felt herself giving in. She buried her face in the nook of Claire's neck and cried for what she knew was lost forever.

_A falling star  
>Least I fall alone.<br>I can't explain what you can't explain.  
>You're finding things that you didn't know<br>I look at you with such disdain_

He was on the couch, now fully dressed, and the television was tuned on some less than entertaining reality show in which a fat girl was engaging in an even less entertaining conversation with some himbo who clearly had no idea where he was, or what year he was in. He jumped at the sound of the entrance door slamming. He sat up and saw Claire entering the room: she was fuming.

"What-"

"Out."

He sat up straighter, still holding a bag of chips on his lap. "What do you mean?"

"I said get out," she hissed, stepping dangerously close and grabbing him by his wrist. For being a woman of a certain age, she was certainly strong, as she managed to make him stand up.

He looked at his mother, bewildered. "Why?"

"I put up with enough shit in my past, from your father," she hissed. "I'm not going to allow you to live like he did. If you want to, you're not going to do it under my roof. Out!" She pushed him, and he circled the couch to escape from her.

"Mom, I can't believe it, you're on her side?" he asked, shocked.

"I know what it feels like, you're nothing but a complete jerk!" she approached again, dangerously, but he decided he'd better leave the house before he gave her any chance to hit him. He flew to the door and got out, and the door was slammed in his face.

Alone, on the porch, he pondered about the last 24 hours, He'd been kicked out by the two most important women in his life, and if he knew Wilhelmina half as much as he thought he did, he was about to be broke. He took the phone from his breast pocket and dialed the only number he could think of.

Less than an hour later he was standing on a landing, staring at the door, shifting uncomfortably on his feet. He knocked again and waited for a reply, and when the door swung opened he couldn't act fast enough to shield himself, and a punch hit him on the face.

He brought his hands up to his jaw, grimacing at the pain.

"Ok, I deserved it," he said.

Marc, on the threshold of his and Amanda's apartment, was looking at him with such disdain he had never reserved for anyone. He was massaging his hand, as the punch had probably hurt him more than it had Daniel. Still, he was satisfied: it was not the physical pain, it was the gesture that mattered.

Amanda came into sight, behind Marc, and watched the two men. Eyeing Marc holding his throbbing hand, and Daniel massaging his chin she immediately understood what was going on. She shook her head and held the door open for Daniel to get in.

Marc shot her a look. "He's not staying," he stated.

"Marc, he has nowhere to go."

"_He_ is right here," Daniel chimed in, pulling a chair and sitting down at the kitchen table.

"Shut up, asshole," Marc cut him off.

Daniel looked at him, agape, but Amanda waved a hand and silenced him. "Marc, come on," Amanda insisted, but Marc lifted a hand and she frowned.

"Fine, he can stay," he said, shooting him a look. "But if he stays, I'm going." He moved to the door and before Amanda could stop him he was walking away. The girl ran on the landing, trying to stop him, but he kept walking.

"Where are you going, Marc!"

"To Wilhelmina's," he said, loud enough that Daniel could hear him from inside the apartment. "She can't be alone, because the man you are letting inside our apartment broke her heart."

"It wasn't like that, Marc," Amanda tried, her voice barely above a whisper.

"Look, Amanda, I'm trying really hard to remain as neutral as possible, here, but it's difficult to see your reasons," Marc exclaimed. "Don't make things worse."

Amanda's arms fell down her sides as she watched her best friend's back draw further away from her.

_Now I'm on my own side  
>It's better than being on your side<br>It's my fault when you're blind  
>It's better that I see it through your eyes<em>

Wilhelmina was fixing her make up when she heard knock on the door. She looked up and put the small mirror down on the desk. She had pulled the curtains opened, not because she was feeling better but because she didn't want people in the office to speculate.

A man entered her office, holding a stack of papers. "Ms Meade, these are the documents you requested," he told her, placing them on her desk. She flinched at the sound of her name; she spread the folders, looking for the one she was the most interested in. When she found it, she snatched it and opened it, reading its contents.

"What do you want me to do with this?" he asked, holding up a folder. On its cover it read _Tanen Sommers Contract._

Wilhelmina looked at it, wishing she could burn it to ashes. "Terminate," she ordered, looking at the papers in her hands.

"Are you sure Ms Meade?" the man asked. "It's one of the most profitable deals we have."

"I said terminate," she said, drawling each word.

On his way out, the company lawyer nearly bumped into Leslie, who was coming in. She watched him as he left, and then looked back at Wilhelmina. "Ms Meade, do you need anything?" the girl asked.

"I want you to put me on the line with Brian Perskin's law office," Wilhelmina stated, not looking up from the folder.

Leslie's eyes widened. "But that's a divorce law office."

Wilhelmina looked up. "Well, I'm glad you're such a smart girl, Lizzie," she deadpanned. "Now please go back to your desk and do what you're paid to do. Thank you very much."

Leslie lowered her gaze and scurried away. Wilhelmina watched her through the glass wall as she sat back at her desk and hurriedly picked up the receiver and pressed it to her ear. Wilhelmina shook her head, thinking that she would be sorry to fire that girl; she had been quite good in the past months. Too bad she had just chosen the wrong day to respond to one of her requests.

The interphone rang and she picked up the receiver.

"Miss Slater, Brian Perskin's on line 2."

Wilhelmina presses the button. "Mister Perskin, this is Wilhelmina Slater."

"How can I help you, Ms Slater?"

"I'm about to get a divorce," she explained, looking at the prenuptial agreement on her desk, at her and Daniel's signatures, dated back at a time in which they were so confident in their feelings. "I have to be sure the prenup is respected."

She knew the man on the other end was smiling. "You came to the right person."

_All these thoughts locked inside  
>Now you're the first to know<em>

She stepped inside her apartment, recoiling slightly as the memory of the night before washed over her. Closing the door, she leaned back against it.

"Good evening darling," came a cheery voice.

Her head snapped up and her eyes widened at the sight of Marc, standing on the threshold on her kitchen, with a huge smile. "I let myself in," he explained.

She smiled for the first time that day, and Marc felt accomplished. He approached her and helped her take off the coat.

"So…" he started, drawling the word a bit, expecting her to pick up the subject. She didn't, walking into the kitchen silently. He followed her, and leaned against the counter. "How are you feeling?" he asked.

She grabbed one of the two glasses that Marc had poured for the two of them and downed a large gulp. "Vindicated," she said.

Marc pouted his lips, not really understanding what she was saying. "I expected a lot of words, many of which wouldn't make it to primetime TV, but vindicated was most definitely not one of them."

Wilhelmina stared down on the red liquid, making it swirl against the walls of the glass. "I'm about to own 75% of the biggest publishing empire in the world, and I' about to make him regret being born. I couldn't be more satisfied with the way the day has gone."

Marc put on a small smile, tilting his head. "Willie, are you sure this is what you want?" he asked, in an impetus of courage. Wilhelmina didn't look at him, preferring to keep her eyes on the wine. He took it as a chance to go on, and tell her what he'd been thinking about ever since she'd told him what had happened. "Isn't there a chance you might be…going too fast? I know Daniel hurt you, and all, but it was a-"

"A what, Marc?" Wilhelmina interrupted him, lifting her gaze. "A mistake? You can bet your ass it was a mistake. It was the silliest mistake he could make, but he did it. I'm not Claire, I' not going to stand aside, look away and pretend I don't know. He cheated on me. The bastard cheated on me. What do you think I should do? Forgive him? Let him inside my house, welcome him with open arms and tell him I'm sorry for making him so unhappy? I'm not that girl, Marc. I've never been, and I'll never be."

Marc closed his mouth and looked down, nodding. "You're right."

"What is it, Marc?" she insisted. "You're worried for Amanda? Don't worry, she's nothing but a small colophon at the end of the book. I can ruin her, but I'm not going to because she's nothing to me. Daniel, on the other hand, he walked all over me. He went behind my back and he thought he would get away with it. Well, you know what? He won't, not this time."

She slammed the glass down and stormed off. Marc stood, alone, in the room. "I guess I'll wait a couple of hours before I tell her I'm sleeping here," he whispered to himself.

_When darkness turns to light  
>It ends tonight<br>It ends tonight  
>Just a little insight won't make this right<br>It's too late to fight  
>It ends tonight<br>It ends tonight_

Amanda placed the cup of coffee on the table, before his eyes. He looked up and she smiled. However, he could see that her eyes were filled with regret. She sat down, and leaned against the back of the chair, she was only the shadow of the perky girl she had been just the day before.

"Amanda, I'm so sorry," he said, his hands tight around the mug. "It's all my entire fault, I shouldn't have-"

"Come on Daniel," she cut him off. "It's not like I was exactly pushing you away. We both fucked up, royally." She leaned on her elbows, with her head in her hands. "She's going to ruin my career. And my life. But mostly my career. And that's worst."

"Geez, your priorities are really messed up," Daniel stated, lifting an eyebrow.

"Do you have a slight idea what it means for a stylist, to be in Wilhelmina Slater's black list?" Amanda exclaimed, throwing her arms up in the air. "It means _no job_, _no social life_, _no reputation._"

"She won't drag you into this," he whispered. "She's going to focus on a way to get back at me. And unfortunately, I handed it to her when we got married." Seeing Amanda's quizzical look, he explained. "You remember the prenuptial agreement we signed, right?"

"Yes, there was a lot of speculation," she said. "But you never told us quite what it was. We only know it was a great deal."

"We agreed, in case of divorce, the party at fault would give half of their patrimony to the other," he said.

Amanda gasped. "That would make her…" she stopped, squinting.

"75%, Amanda."

"That would make her 75% owner of the company!" she exclaimed. "You're totally screwed."

"Yeah," Daniel nodded.

They remained in silent as he drank his coffee. Minutes passed, and they stood there, at the small table, deep in thoughts, when Daniel cleared his throat.

"Amanda, about what happened…" he began. She looked up, a knowing smile. "You know it was not…Well, I was just…It's not a…"

She opted for a quick solution, helping him out. "You just needed to hurt her, it was not intended, I just happened to be there and it's not going to happen again." Daniel didn't say anything as she recited exactly what he had in mind. "It's ok, trust me if I tell you it wasn't enough to make me fall in love with you all over again."

Daniel nodded, thankfully. "I want her back," he said, before being able to bite his tongue.

"Of course you do," the girl exclaimed, patting his back. "I wish I could help you."

Daniel smirked bitterly. "Amanda, believe me, the two of us are not going to be able to walk in the same room as her for quite a long time."

"But you have to go to Meade, tomorrow," she said, shrugging. "I'm sure you could try and avoid her, at first, but you'll have to talk to her eventually. Especially if, as you said, you want her back."

"I do, but she'll never talk to me again. Unless it's to tell me how much she despises me," he said. Pausing, he snorted. "Yeah, I'm sure she'd love to do that."

Amanda scoffed and stood up, stretching. "Well, nothing we can solve tonight anyway," she said, shrugging. "You can sleep in Marc's room," she said, pointing to the first door on the left.

"No, I think I'll sleep on the couch," he said. "When Marc comes home, he might be able to smell the treachery on his pillow and hit me. Again."

Amanda laughed. "That hurt him more than it did you," she said, and walked inside her room, closing the door.

Daniel looked at the couch, and his thoughts wandered back to Wilhelmina who, right now, must be in their bed, alone. And his hands trembled slightly, unconsciously aching to have his wife in his arms, like it had been just forty-eight hours before.

_Tonight  
>Insight<br>When darkness turns to light,  
>It ends tonight<em>


	4. I Don't Believe You

**I Don't Believe You**

_I don't mind it  
>I don't mind at all<em>

The shrill sound pierced the air and she rolled herself tighter into the mattress, draping her arm over her head. "Daniel, get the alarm." Her voice was muffled, sleepy.

As the sound continued to invade her sleep she kicked out her leg to awaken the body next to her. "Daniel!" Her foot connected with empty space and she sat up, the events of the past 2 days came back to her in a rush and the crushing feeling returned to her chest.

She looked at the place where his head should lie; or at least it was where it would lie if she were in their bed. She had slept in one of their guestrooms, unable to bring herself to enter the room that housed her husband's infidelity.

Squeezing her eyes shut and physically forcing her emotions back down into a knotted ball in the pit of her stomach, she turned the alarm off and pulled herself from the bed.

_It's like you're the swing set  
>And I'm the kid that falls<em>

"Did you sleep here?" Wilhelmina walked in her kitchen and her eyes widened at the sight of Marc St James sat at her island, drinking deeply from a black coffee.

He nodded sleepily. She walked past him and picked up the pot of coffee he had brewed and poured herself a cup. She was already dressed for the day. The pillar-box red, one shouldered dress with matching lipstick and heels screamed out that she was a dangerous woman; it was exactly the look she was going for. Her hair was pulled back in a tight bun, adding to her already stern look. She sat up on a stool, across from Marc and sipped from her own coffee. She looked him up and down, noted the black and gold silk of the garment he wore and rolled her eyes.

"Feel free to keep my robe," she drawled.

Marc smiled and clapped his hands lightly, she smiled back at him; grateful for his ability to take her mind off her situation. She was thankful for her one true friend coming to her when she needed him and the fact that he had stayed, but she couldn't keep him away from his life. "Marc, I appreciate you staying with me...really. But you don't need to look after me, I'm a big girl, I'm not going to fall apart."

"Maybe you need to," he told her softly.

She huffed out a hollow laugh and stood, taking her cup to the sink. "And let him win?"

Marc straightened. "Willie, we're talking about the possible end of your marriage, not a game."

She turned to face him and placed her hands behind her, resting on the steel surface. "Not possible, imminent, I have an appointment with my lawyers in an hour."

Marc jumped up from his place at the island and in three quick steps was next to her, holding her upper arms. "Willie, have you thought this through? Is there no way...you two...you worked."

She shrugged off his touch and walked across the room. "Worked, past tense. He destroyed all that the second he took another woman into our bed."

"But maybe if you let him explain, talk to him..."

She snapped. "Are you on his side? Do you think it's my fault, that I drove him to it?"

He shook his head, vigorously. "No...no, God Willie, no. I hate him, I hate what he's done. I hate that he made you feel like this. But I know you love him, you can't just turn that off. I want you to do this for the right reasons, I don't want you to come through it and regret anything. I know you stand to gain Meade but you will lose Daniel...for good. I don't want you to go through all this for some Pyrrhic victory. You need to be sure."

"Well I am." Her voice was committed, did not allow for reproach.

He nodded once at her. "I'll see you at the office."

_It's like the way we fight, the times I've cried  
>We come to blows, and every night<br>The passion's there, so it's got to be right  
>Right?<em>

When Daniel arrived in the building he found himself holding his breath when the elevator stopped at the 27th floor. He didn't know if he was relieved or disappointed when the doors opened and she wasn't there. Instead he found himself looking into his mother's eyes, as she met his gaze she looked to the floor. "I'll wait for the next one."

The doors began to close and Daniel held out a hand to stop them. "Mom, please," he begged her, reverting back to the little boy wanting nothing more than his mother's love.

She held up a hand to stop him coming closer. "No Daniel, not yet. You're my son and I love you, but...just, not yet."

He let his hand fall slowly and allowed the doors to close. He leaned his head against the cool metal and looked at his distorted reflection. Even in the golden hue of the image shining back at him, he could tell he looked like hell. He could make out the bloodshot eyes, evidence of his lack of sleep; could see the day old stubble sprouting on his face. The mismatched shirt and tie were the by-product of him grabbing anything out the wardrobe before he left the apartment.

The doors opened at the penthouse and he walked in to the office he had occupied since he had taken on the mantle of CEO. He dumped his briefcase on the desk and sat in the big leather seat, leaning onto the desk with his elbows and cupping his cheeks in his hands. He looked around the room, the vast space had been redesigned by Wilhelmina, at his insistence. It was designed with his taste in mind but everything in the room screamed of her.

He could see her standing in front of the impossibly tall, narrow fire-place, the light of the flames reflecting off her skin and casting her in shadow. He could picture the two of them standing looking out the window, his arms wrapped around her from behind as they gazed over the city on one of their many late nights at the office. The long brown leather chaise held dominance in the room and he squeezed his eyes tightly as images came unbidden into his head; when they had been busy working and hadn't seen each other for unthinkable amounts of time, she would come to him and their meetings would always end up with them entwined on that very seat.

He had wanted this office changed because, as much as he loved his father, he didn't want him imprinted anywhere in the room. He didn't want to walk in that room and feel he was invading another man's space and truthfully, he couldn't stand the thought of sitting in that room and still feeling the presence of the man who had hurt their family in so many ways. None of it had mattered, the walls were different, the furnishings were different, but a carbon copy of Bradford Meade still sat behind the desk. It had been passed from Father to son, adulterer to adulterer. He had become what he always swore he wouldn't.

His Father.

_No I don't believe you  
>When you say don't come around here no more<br>I won't remind you  
>You said we wouldn't be apart<em>

"It's airtight."

"You're sure?"

The older gentleman nodded at her, a snakelike smile reserved especially for lawyers curling on his lips. She sat across from him, coat folded on her lap, rigidly leaning forward. She let out a breath when he nodded.

"If he admits culpability, which in the case of adultery he pretty much has to, we could have you divorced in as little as a month. That is unless he contests it."

"Oh he will. So he could drag this out?"

"He could file a counter claim of irreconcilable differences, intolerable behaviour within the marriage..."

"What's more irreconcilable or intolerable than fucking someone else?" She exploded.

The man chuckled at her outburst. "No need to worry, the outcome will still be the same in the end; no matter what he cites as your differences, he is the adulterer, he is the one who effectively ended your marriage. The process will be lengthier and it will be more costly to you. But with the settlement you stand to gain, it will be a drop in the ocean."

She stared at her lawyer, unable to quite believe she was sat in the office; that the relationship they had both staked everything on the line for was over. She swallowed. "I don't care what it costs, I just want what's mine."

He laughed. "You'll get that and then some. When would you like to start proceedings?"

She lifted her eyes to meet his. "Immediately."

_No I don't believe you  
>When you say you don't need me anymore<br>So don't pretend to  
>Not love me at all<em>

Amanda sat in her apartment, awash in her own shame and self-loathing, and if she was honest, fear. She had been receiving phone calls all morning telling her she was no longer required. Firstly, and most expected, from Mode; this was soon followed by every other magazine, photographer and celebrity she called clients until there was nothing left. She had screwed Wilhelmina Slater's husband, and now she was screwing her right back. In less than 24 hours her career had come crashing down around her by one word from the woman.

She tried not to think about what she had done, but she kept playing it over and over. She had only gone to the bar to stop Daniel from going home with the model, she had been trying to _stop_ him from cheating. After too many drinks on both their parts she had gone home with him, they had just talked, lamenting on life's woes; his troubled relationship and her lack of one. When they had arrived at his building he had asked her upstairs, she had known instantly what would happen. Had a voice screaming inside at her to turn away, she didn't want this, he certainly didn't want this. But the part of her that would always hold some affection for him, coupled with the need to feel wanted, had won.

She hated herself, Wilhelmina hated her and she was pretty sure Marc hated her too. She could never be friends with Daniel in the same way again and she could never show her face in the fashion industry as long as Wilhelmina still had breath in her body. That morning had been particularly awkward, she and Daniel didn't know how to act around each other and they both knew how stupid it was for him to be within a 5 mile radius of her, never mind in the same apartment. But they had found themselves in the same position; ostracized, made the villains, and in truth it was what they deserved. Between them they had ruined a marriage and quite likely both their lives in the space of a few minutes. She was not under any illusion that this was the start of some great, clandestine love affair. Yes, she would always have a certain amount of feeling for him, but she knew he had none for her, not of the romantic inclination anyway, and she knew he loved Wilhelmina.

The phone rang for what felt like the five hundredth time; pulling herself from the floor she reached for it. She could let the machine pick up but she was using the pain of hearing the words first hand, destroying her career, as some kind of punishment. "Hello." Her voice was raspy.

"I'm looking for Ms Tanen-Sommers." A chirpy voice trilled in her ear.

"Speaking."

"I'm calling from Isabella magazine, on behalf of Penelope Greybridge."

Amanda rolled her eyes, exhausted. "God, has she got everyone to call me just to make sure I know I'll never work in this business again?" She whined, close to tears again. "Look I don't even have a contract with you so-"

"That's precisely why I'm calling. We would like to offer you a job in our tent tomorrow when we display at Fashion Week."

"What?" Amanda breathed, not daring to believe it.

"Ms Greybridge would like me to pass on a message. She doesn't know what you did to Wilhelmina Slater, but whatever it was has got you in her good graces. Can I tell her you accept?"

Amanda nodded wildly on the end of the phone and quickly became aware that the woman couldn't see her. "Yes...yes...thank you so much."

"A pleasure." The woman disconnected the call and for the first time in almost two days, Amanda smiled.

_I don't mind it  
>I still don't mind at all<br>It's like one of those bad dreams  
>When you can't wake up<em>

"Mr Meade, there's someone to see you." His assistant nervously entered the room, aware of her boss's sombre demeanour.

"Wilhelmina?" he asked hopefully.

She shook her head sadly. "No sir."

He slumped back on his seat. "I told you, unless it's my wife, I don't want to see anyone."

A young man appeared over his assistant's shoulder. "I'm afraid it's urgent Mr Meade." He pushed in past the young girl and approached Daniel's desk. "I need you to sign for this."

Daniel eyed the papers in the man's hand, he instantly recognised them as legal documents; his eyes began to prickle and his throat dried up. "Am I being served?" he whispered.

"I'm afraid so sir."

Daniel shook his head, aware of what the papers represented. "No, no, I'm not signing for those, I refuse."

The legal clerk nodded sagely, "I'll have your assistant sign on your behalf." He dropped the papers on the desk and left the room.

Daniel eyed the documents warily, as if they were a snake that would bite him. He refused to pick them up but he could clearly make out the print atop the first page.

_Petition for the dissolution of marriage_

_Complainant: Wilhelmina Vivian Meade; nee Slater_

_It looks like you've given up, you've had enough  
>But I want more, no I won't stop<br>Because I just know, you'll come around  
>Right?<em>

Knowing she wouldn't talk to him and would more than likely have her assistant blank him also, he had his assistant call down to her office. Leslie informed her that Wilhelmina had gone home a little over an hour ago. He walked down the hallway to their apartment and tried to assimilate what he was feeling. He inserted the key in the lock and was somewhat surprised when the door opened; that she hadn't had the locks changed the minute the door had closed behind him.

The first thing he saw when he stepped in the hallway was four suitcases and a carry-on bag, stacked near the entrance. It didn't take a genius to work out what they contained. He ran a hand down his face, cupping his mouth and chin and went in search of his wife.

He heard the methodical click of heels coming from the lounge and he nervously stepped in the room. He felt his heart expand as he took in the sight of her, she had his back to him and was studying something in her hand. She turned and saw him, he waited for her reaction, any type of reaction, but got nothing. She was indifferent to his presence and her attitude cut him like a knife. She gave him only the briefest of looks and carried on with her task. She was walking from room to room and had little pads of paper in her hand; one pink and one yellow.

As she walked around the room she sporadically slapped bits of different coloured paper on several objects in the room. She still did not pay him any attention.

"Willie-" he tried, softly.

"Yellow is yours, you can take it with you or you can put it in storage, just get it out of here. Pink is stuff we got together so we'll need to figure out who gets what...but I suppose things like that can be ironed out in court, although there probably isn't any point seeing as I intend to get everything." Her voice was cold and authoritative, and still she refused to look at him.

"Don't do this."

"I didn't do this, you did. You and Amanda." She went to walk past him and he grabbed her arm, halting her.

"After all we fought for, the work we put in proving to everyone that this was real, you're really just going to throw it away?"

She pulled her arm out of his grasp and looked at him for the first time since he came into their home, her eyes were dark and ominous and her mouth curled in a snarl. "Me! Me, throw it away! It wasn't me in our bed with someone else!"

She tried to walk away from him but he grabbed her by the shoulders and forced her to turn back to him. "I know and I'm sorry ...believe me, it was the stupidest thing I've ever done and I regret it. You know me Willie...look at me, look at me and you'll know I'm telling the truth."

He held her gaze for several seconds, trying to communicate his remorse and his feeling for her through his eyes. "What do you see?"

"The same thing I'll always see when I look at you from now on...the back of Amanda's head." Once again she pushed his hands from her, her skin felt as if it burned from where he had touched her.

He watched her walk away from him. "After all I've forgiven you for..."

His words stopped her in her tracks and she turned slowly to face him and he felt his throat constrict when he saw the light in her eyes. "What did you just say?"

"Nothing."

She stalked towards him. "Is that what this was? Payback?" He wouldn't answer her. "We left our pasts behind us the day we said I do Daniel. It's what we both agreed. Don't you dare bring it up now to justify your fuck up!" She was getting closer to him and showed no signs of stopping. "I was the one who had to work to get you to trust me, I was the one who had to atone for every-fucking-little-thing I ever did. You've ruined it all...our marriage, my reputation, even my home; there isn't an aspect of my life that doesn't in some way have you embossed on it. Everywhere I look I'm going to have to see you, see what you did to me...to US!"

"Willie I-"

"NO!" She yelled at him, finger in his face. "I don't want anymore apologies, I don't want your excuses, I don't want to hear you say you love me. I want you out and take your shit with you. I don't need you cluttering up my house, or my life, anymore."

Her tirade had taken it out of her, the little rant threatened to open the box deep inside her where she had contained her hurt, her rage and her love for him. She deflated, taking a hitching breath. Daniel stared at her, every word from her mouth, every crack in her armour, making him hate himself even more. "You've done a lot to me Wilhelmina." He spoke softly, his voice laden with regret, "and I've always forgiven you. I don't think there's anything you could do...I'd always fight for us."

She nodded, a smile suddenly playing on her lips as she stepped in close to him again. "Really? What if it had been me?"

"What?"

"You heard me. What if it had been me?" She leaned in close to his ear and lowered her voice. "You saw me, another man's hands on my body. Me clutching him to my sweat soaked skin as someone else was inside me; his hands where yours should be, me biting my lip to stop me screaming his name...what if it had been me?"

She stepped back and took in the tightening of his fists, the clenching of his jaw as the mental picture she had conjured permeated his brain. "I would get past it," he whispered.

She smiled. "Liar. You and your mother would have me thrown out on my ass in a heartbeat. You would destroy me; and that's exactly what I'm going to do to you."

"You hate me that much?" His voice sounded foreign as it began to crack under the strain.

"Hate you?" She let out a mirthless laugh. "I love you Daniel...that's what makes it hurt so fucking much." Her voice reduced to a whisper.

"Then there's hope." He clutched on to her hands desperately.

She tried to extract herself but he kept grabbing her back to him. With a shove to his chest she broke the contact. "Just grant the divorce Daniel...it's over, I'm done."

"No."

"Then you better get yourself a damn good lawyer." The steeliness returned to her eyes and Daniel felt a breath catch in his chest as he looked into them. He wasn't looking at his wife anymore, the woman he had known for the past four years; he wasn't even looking at the woman who preceded her, who had tried to undermine him at every opportunity. Looking in those eyes, he knew. He had created an entirely different beast,

She held her hand out, palm facing upwards. "Key."

He shook his head. "No, we're not done yet."

"We were done the minute I walked in that room." She lowered her hand. "I'll change the locks then...just get out."

He shook his head. "GET OUT!" She raged at him.

"You heard her." The determined voice startled him and he turned to see Marc standing at the threshold.

Daniel looked back to his wife and saw the effect he was having on her, he could see her breaking before his eyes. "I'm not leaving her."

Wilhelmina squeezed her eyes closed and looked down, she wasn't as prepared for the inevitable confrontation as she thought. Marc stepped in between them, facing Daniel. "Go on, leave, go back to Amanda's."

Daniel's eyes closed at the man's words and his head slumped to his chest as Willie's face snapped back up, eyes flying open. "You're living with her?" Her voice was full of disbelief and he could hear the hurt in her words.

"I'm not living with her...I'm staying with her, my Mom threw me out."

"And you couldn't stay in a hotel?" Her voice was growing bolder and he could swear she was beginning to sound amused.

"With the law suit you're about to hit me with, I'm guessing I need to look after my pennies."

She shook her head slowly, biting her smirking lips and she placed her hands on her hips. "Oh Danny...you're handing me the keys to the kingdom on a silver platter."

"It's not like that, it's-"

"I don't want to hear it. Go to Amanda, sleep with her, hell marry her then cheat on her and reduce your 25% to 12.5, I don't care. Just get out of my house."

Daniel allowed himself one last look at his wife and then turned to Marc, the accusation in his stare forced his gaze away and he walked to the door. "I'll send someone for my things," he said without looking back and then left the apartment quietly.

Marc watched the closed door. "Brava Willie, you handled that perf-" he stopped midsentence when he turned back to face her, she was completely still and silent but he could see the trail of wetness snaking from her eyes.

"He's staying with her?" she whispered, not to Marc; not to anyone, just staring at the spot her husband had vacated. She suddenly let out a loud choked breath and brought her hand to squeeze her stomach. "Oh God..."

Just as she felt the pain of his revelation begin to wrack her body, before her legs stopped working and she crumbled, she felt herself being pulled into to two comforting arms. Marc felt his own heart shatter as the so called unbreakable woman broke into pieces in his arms.

_No I don't believe you  
>When you say don't come around here no more<br>I won't remind you  
>You said we wouldn't be apart<em>

Daniel returned to the office, unable to face going anywhere else. He sat at the desk, desperately needing a friend. He had picked up the phone so many times he lost count, he needed her but he couldn't stand to hear the disappointment in her voice. Couldn't face telling yet another person what he had done.

Swallowing his fear and letting his need for friendship take over, he picked up the phone and typed in the number. He closed his eyes, trying to gather his thoughts when a British voice answered.

"Betty Suarez, please," he told the receptionist.

"I'm sorry, I'm afraid she's out of the office on sabbatical right now."

"Do you...do you know how I can reach her? Do you know where she is?"

"New York." The reply didn't come from the phone, but from his doorway. He slammed the phone down as he took in the sight of the young woman standing on his threshold; still as gaudy as ever in her own brand of fashion. Her hair was sleek and she was brace free, but he still visualised her as she used to be. Still saw her as the awkward young woman who had fit in against the odds. He smiled broadly at her, the first real smile he had cracked since things came to a head with Wilhelmina. He faltered when his friend didn't respond with a smile of her own.

Betty took slow steps into the room. "Your mother called me yesterday and I took the first flight out." She shook her head at him. "Daniel," she whispered, "What have you done?"

With those four words he felt the weight of the past two days come crashing down. His head fell to his chest and he placed a hand to his face, rubbing his eyes. Allowing himself to face the enormity of the situation and the tears came freely. He remained that way until he felt a hand on his shoulder, pulling him. He let his head fall against her as she held him against her torso.

No more words were shared, Betty simply held him while he fell apart.

_No I don't believe you  
>When you say you don't need me anymore<br>So don't pretend to  
>Not love me at all<em>

Amanda was setting up in Isabella's tent. The reason Wilhelmina had got her blacklisted from almost every facet of the industry was not yet common knowledge, but everyone was eyeing her guardedly, not wanting to tar themselves with the same brush and suddenly find themselves under the scrutiny of Wilhelmina Meade.

She tried to ignore the burn of the eyes upon her but felt her heart thump harder when she heard a voice behind her. "Sleeping with the married head of Meade; the apple didn't fall far from that tree, did it?"

She turned around slowly to come face to face with Claire Meade; her arms were folded and her stare was hard. "Are you truly dense? Haven't you let your bad judgement land you in enough hot water? Yet you still come to fashion week, the biggest event in Wilhelmina's calendar, you're asking for trouble."

Amanda felt herself shrinking under the older woman's gaze. "I've got to work...this was the only job I could get; Wilhelmina saw to that," she replied meekly.

"Do you blame her?" She was incredulous, she lowered her voice so prying ears wouldn't hear. "You slept with the husband of quite possibly the most vindictive person on the planet; I should think you'd feel fortunate enough to still be breathing, let alone working! Do NOT leave this tent. I'll do my best to keep her away." And with that, she left. Amanda felt her cheeks burn with shame as all eyes returned to her.

_Just don't stand there and watch me fall  
>Because I, because I still don't mind at all<em>

Wilhelmina watched as Claire walked brusquely through the crowd, clearly agitated. She looked at her quizzically as she returned to her side. She had been more than surprised to have the support of her mother-in-law, who had made no secret about her disdain over Wilhelmina's union with her son. But after they married, Daniel had pleaded his mother to give her a chance; to let her prove herself and Claire had done so. It looked as if Daniel's wish was coming back to bite him in the ass as his mother distanced himself from him and allied with Wilhelmina.

"Where have you been?"

Claire fussed with her outfit, looking straight ahead. "Nowhere, what time do we start?" She asked, trying to change the subject.

Wilhelmina looked forward, at the hubbub of activity inside the Mode tent. "Another half an hour yet, just enough time for me to go and fake being nice to that bitch Penelope." She started to walk away, towards Isabella's tent. She stopped when Claire grabbed her arm.

"Why don't you leave that for now, there's plenty to be done here."

Wilhelmina looked down at the hand clamping her arm. "Claire, you know I have to. If I don't than she'll bad mouth me to that little worm from Fashion Buzz and he will spin it into something ridiculous and before you know it we have bad press splashed everywhere."

"Just...wait, please," she pleaded.

"Claire, what are you not telling me?"

"Nothing, nothing." Her voice went high pitched. "I just don't think you should be having to deal with all the reporters right now, it's a delicate time."

"Claire, there won't be any reporters inside the tent. It will be crammed full with models and sty-" She stopped, realisation hitting her and her eyes widened, she shook her arm from Claire's grasp and started marching away.

"Wilhelmina please!" Claire called after her, but Wilhelmina was deaf to her cries.

Behind Claire, the little worm from Fashion Buzz heard the exchange and saw Wilhelmina blaze a trail towards the other tent. He snapped his fingers at the cameraman and began following her. "Start rolling, I smell a catfight."

_It's like the way we fight, the times I've cried  
>We come to blows, and every night<br>The passion's there, so it's got to be right,  
>Right?<em>

Amanda stood behind one of the models, fixing the straps on the dress she wore. She pinned the brunettes hair out the way, so it would not obstruct the detail at the back of the dress. She reached for hairspray to hold it in place. As she brought the canister up, she felt a hand clamp around her wrist. Her breath stopped as she saw the slender, mocha hand with red talons, tightening around her.

Feeling her blood freeze in her veins and her heart drop into her stomach, she turned her body to face the woman holding her, not daring to look up.

"Look at me," she hissed.

Amanda kept her head down, she was aware of the light from a camera shining on her; if Wilhelmina was, then she didn't show it. "I said look at me!"

Amanda still refused to meet her eyes. Wilhelmina laughed; a low, nasty, frightening sound. "You're brave enough to fuck my husband, brave enough to shack up with him but too cowardly to look me in the eye?"

She grabbed Amanda's chin and forced her head up, roughly. Forcing the girl to look at her. "What did you think would happen? What exactly did you think screwing him would accomplish? Did you think that you were going to be the one to finally stick it to the ice queen? Steal her husband and run off into the sunset?"

Amanda shook her head, the tears once again building behind her eyes. "No...I..it..he loves you. It was a stupid, stupid mis-"

"Stop snivelling." She snapped. "Take him, I really don't care. But if you think for one second that it's going to be a fairytale...that you're going to get the sugar daddy you've always wanted; think again sweetheart. I'm going to take everything, do you hear me? I ALWAYS win. He will have nothing when I'm through and I will make sure you NEVER work in this business again."

She let go of her chin and Amanda let the tears fall. "Enjoy your penniless existence with my husband...I hope it was worth it." She finished with a whisper and walked away.

Amanda ran to the table and grabbed her purse, fleeing the scene. Suzuki turned to his camera man. "Did you get it?"

The man smiled. "Every word."

_No I don't believe you  
>When you say don't come around here no more<br>I won't remind you  
>You said we wouldn't be apart<em>

That night Fashion Buzz seemed to be playing the confrontation between Wilhelmina and Amanda every thirty minutes.

Marc sat in Wilhelmina's apartment, watching it play out; his gut twisting in worry as he watched the showdown between the two most important people in his life, his loyalties torn.

Claire sat in her sitting room in her large empty house, hearing Wilhelmina's voice echo around the walls. Feeling a chill at the words and chastising her son for giving Wilhelmina the upper hand.

Daniel and Betty sat side by side, still in his office. Daniel had his head in his hands as he watched his wife air their problems on television, aware of the media circus that would follow and how he was about to be vilified. Betty rubbed her friend's back in an unconscious gesture. Terrified for what lay ahead, still in shock that the state of affairs had changed so drastically since her last visit, when the couple had been so happy.

Amanda was alone in her apartment, clutching a cushion to her as she sat cross legged on the floor, eyes red from crying. She heard the venom drip from every syllable that came from Wilhelmina's mouth and felt her gut constrict.

Wilhelmina watched on the laptop in her kitchen, lips curving around the rim of her wineglass. It wasn't how she had planned on announcing her separation from Daniel; but watching the girl's eyes widen in fear told her it was the perfect way to show the world she would not be fucked around.

On another television set, in another location, another set of eyes watched the two women on the screen. A hand reached out to turn off the screen and reached for a phone; dialling a number and waiting for an answer.

"I need your first available flight to New York; one way."

_No I don't believe you  
>When you say you don't need me anymore<br>So don't pretend to  
>Not love me at all<br>I don't believe you_


	5. So Very Hard To Go

**So very hard to go**

_Ain't nothin' I can say, nothin' I can do,  
>I feel so bad, yeah, I feel so blue.<em>

Betty Suarez was never one to keep her judgments to herself. She liked to tell people what she thought, she liked to give them a piece of her mind if necessary, but there was one person she could never find the courage to tell the honest truth, and it was the person standing right in front of her.

It's not that she lied to Daniel, because she didn't, but she had always found it hard to tell him exactly what she was thinking. It was hard for her to tell him: "You're a jerk," maybe due to some sort of residual of the boss/assistant relationship they'd shared for such a long time. Even now, with her working in another magazine, in another country, and in another continent, she could just stand there, looking down at him, while he tortured himself watching the scene of Wilhelmina and Amanda's public and shameful fight.

She had lost count of the times he'd watched it, but she could swear his shoulders fell a little bit more every time he would rewind the tape.

At some point of the night, she reached over and snatched the remote from his hand, turning the device off. He didn't even resist it; he kept looking at the blank screen. Betty placed the remote down on the desk, kneeled down next to his big chair and grabbed his hand. He turned his head slowly and looked down at her, his eyes still wet from the uncontrollable sobs he'd lost himself to, just hours before.

"Daniel," she began, squeezing his hand. "Listen to me, listen to me ok?"

He nodded.

"We can find a way to make this work," she said, her mind thinking fast. "Where are you staying?"

"Amanda's," he said, whispering. Betty lifted a brow, and before she could say anything he continued. "What should I do, Betty? Wilhelmina kicked me out, my mother kicked me out, and I was trying to keep the press out of it, so I tried to avoid public places. Doesn't matter anymore now, does it?" he added, looking at the screen again.

Betty grabbed his chin with her hand and forced him to look at her. "First thing we have to do is book a room somewhere. You need to have a place to stay, a place as far from Amanda as possible. Right now, the media will be all over you, we can't let them know you're staying there. It would be a slap in-" she stopped mid-sentence, biting her lip.

"A slap in Wilhelmina's face?" Daniel continued for her. "It's ok Betty; I don't blame you for being on her side. Everyone is, I'm a jerk, and I deserve to rot in hell."

"I'm on no one's side, and stop with the self pitying, it's not going to make me pity you." she exclaimed, standing up. She placed her hands on Daniel's biceps and held him up, making him stand. He was so devastated he could not even resist the girl's actions. "We need to get you a lawyer."

Daniel's head snapped up and he shrugged the girl's hands off himself violently. "I don't need a fucking lawyer."

"Yes, you do," Betty insisted. "Wilhelmina is really serious about this, you're gonna lose everything if you don't fight back."

"I don't want to fight back!" he yelled, running his hands through his hair and turning his back on her, circling the desk and walking across the room, till he was standing in front of the fireplace. He looked down into the flames. "I'm not going to let her go just like that. I won't stand back and watch her walk away. I will fight, Betty, but I will fight _for_ her, not against her."

"I don't think you can do that much really, Daniel."

He spun around and looked hard into her eyes. "Don't," he pleaded. "I need you to tell me I still have a chance, I need you to do that for me Betty."

Betty opened her mouth to say something but closed it again and looked down, unable to tell him what he wanted to hear. When Claire had called her, asking her to go back to New York, she had done so without much questioning. Claire had told her everything quickly, but as far as she knew there was very little Daniel could do. As she had put it, Daniel had "fucked up royally", and Wilhelmina was "nowhere near her right state of mind".

Having known Claire and her history for a long time, Betty could see how she would get easily worked up when confronted with her own son's infidelity, but she also recognized the woman's strength in not wanting her son to be alone, which was ultimately the reason why she had called her and asked her to come back.

"I have an idea," she said, looking up and narrowing her eyes. She smiled and walked up to Daniel, taking his hand and dragging him with her, grabbing his coat on their way. Ignoring Daniel's protests, she led him to the lifts, where they stood, waiting for the doors to open.

"Where are you taking me?" he asked.

"I still haven't been to visit Dad," she said, smiling widely. "You're coming with me. You need a Suarez wisdom fix."

_I got to make it right for everyone concerned  
>Even if it's me, if it means it's me what's gettin' burned<em>

He looked intently down at his feet when Betty knocked on the door of the Suarez household. He hadn't ever heard from the family after Betty had moved to London; too busy being the idiot rich boy he'd gone back to being after he'd married Wilhelmina. Yes, he was different when he was with her, but that was between the four walls of their apartment, or whenever they were alone. Anyone looking from the outside could easily see he hadn't changed a bit. With Betty out of his life he simply hadn't felt the urge to know anything about Hilda, or Ignacio, or little Justin.

He feared the judgment of that family mainly because he knew them all, and he knew how much they believed in moral values. How could a cheater be welcomed in the haven of family values?

They heard noises coming from the inside, and Daniel's guts twisted when the door opened up, revealing the old face he'd learned to know over the years. Ignacio's eyes were fixed on Betty, confused at first, but his expression lit up quickly. His lips curved in the biggest smile and he sprang forward, hugging his daughter tightly for a long time. Daniel heard him whispering kind words of greeting into Betty's ears, completely unaware of his presence a mere meter away.

Betty hugged her father with force, her eyes tight shut, rejoicing at the feeling of being in his arms. She pulled back reluctantly and Ignacio cupped her face and smiled at her sweetly. Betty's eyes darted to the side, in Daniel's direction, and the older man finally took notice of the man standing there. His hands fell from Betty's face and he turned to Daniel, stretching out his hand.

"It's nice to see you again, Daniel," he said, no trace of animosity in his voice.

Daniel, surprised, took the man's hand and shook it, smiling. "Likewise, Mister Suarez," he replied.

Ignacio stepped inside the house, inviting them in. once inside the house, Daniel looked around and took in how the place was still the same as ever, as if not a day had gone by. He heard two other voices drawing closer, and he spun around as two people came down the stairs, talking amongst each other.

"Justin, I don't care, you can't skip class because you don't have socks that match your shirt," Hilda was saying, gesticulating as she always did. "Who cares if the socks match? You're a guy; they don't even _see_your sockets underneath the jeans!"

"Mom, you are so _retro_," the young man exclaimed. The more they came into sight, the more it was clear to Daniel how Justin was not _little_Justin anymore. He had reached Hilda's height, and maybe he was even a couple of inches taller than her. He had grown a bit more muscular, but still kept the thin and feminine figure that was so typically his. "You think Michael Jackson would have been who he was if it hadn't been for the white socks?"

"You are not Michael Jackson and- Oh my God, Daniel Meade!"

The two stopped on the last step of the staircase, both wide-eyed at the unusual presence in the house. They both glanced at Betty, who was waving enthusiastically, but they just nodded and shifted their gaze back on Daniel. "What are you doing here?" Justin asked.

"He's with me," Betty intervened, stepping forward.

"You are a prick," Justin continued, lifting an eyebrow.

Daniel sighed and his eyes caught a glimpse of the shirt Justin was wearing under the hoodie. "Is that a _Team Slater_shirt?" he asked. "I thought they stopped making those."

"They stopped after the marriage, now they're hot again," Justin explained, folding his arms on his chest. The gesture would have been scary on anyone, but it was Justin: he looked like a kitten trying to be a lion.

"Clearly," Daniel said, looking down.

"Ok, we're not here to talk about this," Betty chimed in, circling Justin's waist as she was unable to reach his shoulders. "How about we sit down and have a good conversation, now that your favorite aunt is back in town?"

Justin smiled down at Betty, following her into the kitchen. "You're my only aunt," he stated.

Daniel shifted uncomfortably on his feet, looking at Ignacio and Hilda. The older man smiled awkwardly and, after patting him gently on the shoulder, he followed Betty and Justin into the kitchen. Daniel, not knowing what to do, looked briefly at Hilda, who walked past him with a curious look on her face. He studied her back as she walked away, but she stopped on the threshold and turned around.

"What, you're gonna stand there the whole time?" she asked. "Trust me, the Suarez's talk a lot."

He took off the coat hastily and followed her to the table, sitting down next to Betty. Justin's eyes followed him the whole time, even though he couldn't tell if it was out of hate or curiosity. He remembered vaguely the boy's love for Wilhelmina, and he could tell he was just playing the role of the perfect_Team Slater_ member. After all, he could not be blamed. He was indeed a prick, and very aware to be such.

"How's it going in London?" Hilda asked, in her best (still awful) British accent.

"It's…good, I guess. Very different, a whole new level of responsibilities," she began, accepting the tea cup her father was handing her. "Being an Editor in Chief is so difficult, but I enjoy the job and I work hard to-"

"Oh come on Aunt Betty, give us juicy details!" Justin exclaimed. "Are you dating?"

Betty blushed, and Ignacio rolled his eyes to the ceiling, going back to the stove and pouring two more cups. "Uhm.." she stuttered, looking nervously down into her tea. "I'm…seeing people, yes. A couple. I mean, I'm looking."

"A couple?" Daniel chimed in, with an amused smirk.

"Yes," Betty said, still very embarrassed. "But it's not like I'm dating, I'm just going out with them, as friends…and we'll see if it evolves into something more."

"That's the new name for _sleeping around_?" Daniel asked.

There was a loud crash as Ignacio dropped the mugs he was carrying. Justin and Hilda looked at him, eyes wide. Betty passed a hand over her eyes, sighing. Daniel looked around, suddenly not at ease. "I'm sorry," he whispered. "I didn't mean-"

"Sure you did," Justin deadpanned. "It's something you're used to, after all."

"Ok, I deserved that," Daniel said, more to himself than anyone else. "I'm sorry."

Ignacio bent to pick up the pieces of glass from the floor, and Hilda looked suggestively at Betty. "How about I take you upstairs and show you how we remodeled the bathroom?" she said, punctuating each word with a wiggle of her eyebrows.

Betty and Hilda stood up, and dragged Justin with them, out of the room, leaving Daniel alone at the table, and Ignacio still on his knees picking up the remainder of the cups. Daniel stood up and kneeled next to the man, silently helping him. When there was no more glass on the floor, they both stood up and Ignacio walked up to the trash can. Daniel, instead, reached for a cloth and kneeled again, passing it over the floor, mopping the tea up.

Ignacio looked at Daniel's crouched figure and felt bad for the man. He wasn't one to judge, he would never tell him he'd done wrong, but the old father instinct was hard to fight, and he walked up behind him and placed a hand on the man's shoulder.

"It's ok," he told him, squeezing lightly. "Leave it; I'll take care of that."

Daniel dropped the cloth and rubbed his eyes. He stood up and looked at the older man, thankful.

"You want to talk?" Ignacio said, pointing at the table. Daniel didn't want to talk, he was tired of talking. He wanted to _do_something, he wanted to go to Wilhelmina and give it one more try, tell her how sorry he was, tell her he loved her, tell her they couldn't let go of what they had.

Instead, he nodded and sat down. He didn't want to, but he had to talk, because he needed to say the things out loud, and he needed someone to tell him what to do, someone that was not Betty, or Wilhelmina, or his mother. Most of all, he needed someone other than himself to tell him what he should do, because he was no longer sure he could trust himself.

Ignacio sat down opposite him and waited patiently for him to find the words, and the courage.

"You heard Justin," Daniel said, looking down at his hands. "I'm a prick."

"Why?" Ignacio simply asked.

"Why? Because I cheated on the person I love the most in the world. What else could I be called?"

"No, I meant…why did you do it?" Ignacio explained; the tone of his voice vaguely soothing. "There must be a reason. Was she…withholding?"

Daniel looked up questioningly, and then understood what the man was implying. "Oh, that. No, not at all. I mean, the sexual aspect of it was possibly the only thing going right."

"Then what was going wrong, exactly?" the man asked. "I'm usually not interested in the Fashion channel, but with Justin being constantly tuned on it…I had the idea you were happy."

"I am. I was. Oh who am I kidding, I haven't been happy for a long time, now," Daniel admitted. "Don't get me wrong, Wilhelmina is amazing. She was a challenge, the perfect match. It was the tension and the fights that drew us together. At some point, I think we just reached a point where the relationship could go two ways: either we killed each other, or we fell in love. We chose the latter."

"When did it change?"

"At first, it was fun. It was exciting, every day was a question, and it was almost as if we had to answer together. It was a constant battle against the world, the old _us against everyone_ situation. But you know how Wilhelmina is; how she acts…She needs to be on top. And I'm not talking about being physically on top," he added, smiling, reminiscing, unaware of the uneasiness of the other man. "She's so used to going solo…And when we were together, that didn't change. She still wanted to be the one with the power; she still wanted to be the one with the upper hand."

Ignacio chuckled. "Well, I'm sure you knew that when you first got involved with her."

"I did…But I had no idea it would be so…"

"Frustrating?" Ignacio offered, starting to see a sense in what the man was saying.

"I was thinking _castrating_, but I guess _frustrating_will do, too," Daniel stated, placing his head in his hands, leaning his elbows on his knees. "I don't know why I did it, Mr Suarez, I was looking for something easy, something where I could feel in control. Something that made me feel alive again."

"And the result…?"

"I've never been more dead inside my whole life. I need her, to be alive."

_'Cause I could never make you unhappy, no, I couldn't do that girl  
>Only wish I didn't love you so, makes it so, so very hard to go<br>'Cause I love you so  
>Ah, I love you so<em>

Wilhelmina was in the big circular conference room, writing notes on the mockup book. She could feel the stares of the people studying her from the glass walls, probably expecting her to breakdown and cry, maybe throw things around the room, giving any sign of devastation whatsoever. But she wouldn't give them any; she wouldn't give anyone anything else.

She could hear the whispering, like a persistent buzz in her ear, even though the room was empty. She could feel them all talking, behind her back, wondering what was going to happen next.

When the buzzing suddenly stopped she looked up. She felt a presence in the room, and the looks of the people standing just outside the conference room, looking inside and staring at something she couldn't see, behind her. She glanced over her shoulder and her face hardened when Daniel stepped over the threshold of the room, holding something to his chest.

"What are you doing here?" she asked, returning her eyes on the book.

"I needed to drop these," he said, walking up beside her and placing a stack of papers before her eyes. She looked up and he sat down on the chair next to hers. "It's the latest sales figures," he explained. "They are really good."

"Great," she said, sarcastic. "I guess I should trash your little whores on national TV more often. Let me know who the others are, I'll do what I can." She started writing something on yet another post it, but Daniel grabbed her wrist and forced her to look at him. "Don't touch me," she hissed dangerously.

When he didn't stop, she tried to pull her wrist out of his grip, but the idea of having everyone's stares upon them made her stop, and she gave in, looking at him.

"There has never been anyone else," he said, his voice firm and low. "You know that."

"I know nothing," she stated, managing to get free with a last forceful tug. She shut the book and stood up, collecting the papers Daniel had brought. "I need your lawyer to get in contact with mine," she stated, not looking at him.

"I don't have a lawyer," he said, looking as her hands worked furiously on the table; she just couldn't wait to get out of there, and get away from him. "Wilhelmina, wait."

"You should really find yourself one, Daniel," she said, turning her back on him and starting to leave.

He stood up and followed her through the crowded corridors of the Mode offices, perfectly aware of the stares following their moves. Wilhelmina tried to take bigger and quicker steps, hoping he would get the message and stop following her, but he kept up with her and walked into her office after her, closing the door. He didn't close the curtains, and a few employees could be seen standing on the other side, glancing inside casually, pretending to be busy.

Daniel stepped closer to her desk, where she was settling, and slammed his hands on the surface, making her jump. "I don't want to find a lawyer," he hissed. "We can solve this, there's no need to have lawyers involved. I'm not letting you file for divorce."

"I already did, Daniel," Wilhelmina snapped back. "And you got the papers, even though you didn't sign them. Too bad, your assistant did for you. Anyway, I don't really care what you want, because your desires are exactly what got us into this mess."

Daniel scoffed and ran his hands through his hair. "Trust me, that was not it."

"Oh so what was it? Was I not good enough for you, Daniel?" she snapped, a hand on her hip, eyes narrowed dangerously. "Was I not young enough? Was I too boring? Or maybe I was just more powerful than you?"

Daniel's muscles twitched at her words, and he looked down. Wilhelmina tilted her head to the side, and her arm fell down by her side. Her lips parted lightly, and she tried to say something, but the words were stuck in her throat.

"I couldn't control it," he whispered. "I felt so outdone in every aspect of our life, Willie. You were always so…better than me."

Wilhelmina swallowed the lump that had formed in her throat, and casually turned a page of the book on her desk, looking down on it. "Get out," she whispered.

"I love you, Willie!" Daniel exclaimed, raising his voice. "It was a mistake, a fucking stupid mistake! If I could go back in time I would kill myself rather than do that to you, you have to believe me!"

"I said get out," she repeated, fighting to keep her voice calm and steady.

"Wilhelmina, look at me," he said, circling the desk and spinning her round to face him. "Look at me. You know you love me, don't let a small thing tear us apart. We fought so much for this, don't let it get to you. You can't be that indifferent to me."

"I'm not indifferent to you, Daniel," she said, studying his features. A small smile appeared on her lips, and he felt his heart leap for a second, a second before that smile turned into a smirk. "I hate you. If you would drop dead in front of my eyes, right now, I wouldn't even blink. I would step over your body and leave you to rot in here."

Daniel took a step back, the pain of her words hitting him like a slap in the face. "You don't really mean that."

Wilhelmina pushed him away. "No I don't, you idiot, but I need to convince myself that I do!" she yelled. "I need you to leave me alone, Daniel! I don't want to see you because it hurts like hell! If you love me, like you say you do, I'm begging you…stay away from me. Don't make any more trouble with the divorce, just sign the damned papers when the time comes. I'm begging you, don't make my life more hell than it is already."

She was right, and Daniel knew it. It was selfish of him to keep coming back to her, to make her face his mistake every day. He had no idea how she was feeling, because no one had ever cheated on him, but he knew that she was probably forced to relive the scene every time she saw him, every time he was in the same room as her. Forced to replay the scene over and over, and to ask herself when and why things had reached such a level of desperation, between the two of them.

He nodded. "You're right."

Wilhelmina's head snapped up, in confusion. "What did you say?"

"I said you're right," he stated. "I tried, Wilhelmina, I really tried. But there's nothing I can do, if you don't want me there. I can only step back and let you go ahead and do whatever you want to do." He reached into his breast pocket and took out a card, placing it on her desk. "That's the name of my lawyer. I haven't talked to him, yet, but I will talk to him today. I'm not going to contest your requests, I'll sign whatever I have to sign. You can have everything you want, I don't care."

He turned around and headed towards the door.

"Daniel."

He halted, on the threshold, and looked at her.

"Where are you staying?" she asked, unable to tell whether she wanted to hear the answer or not.

"I booked a room at the Four Seasons," he said, with a sad smile.

She inhaled deeply and nodded. "Thank you."

He knew exactly why she was thanking him.

_I knew the time would come  
>I'd have to pay for my mistakes<em>

Amanda heard the key in the lock and looked up as Marc walked into their apartment. She hadn't seen or heard from him in days. He closed the door behind him and stood on the spot, looking at her.

"How are you?" he asked.

"Usual crap," she answered, smiling bitterly. "How are you?"

"Unusual crap."

He walked across the room and sat down on the couch next to her. They simply looked ahead, shoulders touching, looking for the courage to start a conversation they both knew would lead to dangerous territory. Marc was the first to break the silence.

"Mandy, I don't know what to say," he began. "I wish I could just tell you that it wasn't your fault, that you're not to blame, that I understand why it happened. I can't. I don't see why you would do such a thing. But what I do know, is that it's not _only_your fault, it's Daniel's too. I'm not going to blame you for this, not you alone, and I'm sure neither will Wilhelmina."

Amanda turned her head to look at her friend. "I'm so sorry, Marc."

"You don't have to tell me, Mandy, it's not me the one who was standing on the threshold that night."

"You mean I should go and apologize to Wilhelmina?"

"No. No, don't you dare even walk in front of her, she might shoot you."

They shared a low chuckle, the first in days. It was frustrating how this thing was taking its toll on their relationship, but she would be lying if she'd said she hadn't foreseen this. She had always known he would be on Wilhelmina's side, in this, and she couldn't completely blame him for making that choice.

"It's going to take time," he said. "But eventually we will work it out, all of us."

Amanda nodded and looked at the blank TV screen. "She filed for divorce," she stated. "She's going to destroy him, Marc. She will take all he has, and she will make him pay for our mistake. How can this be solved?"

"I don't know, but it's not exactly the first time. I mean, they've had it worse," he concluded, smiling knowingly.

"I'm not sure. I've never seen her so angry, Marc. The other day, at the Fashion Show, she was really scary. I think I felt her nails digging into my wrist at some point."

"Mandy, what did you expect from her? That she would be a happy pink bunny and jump around handing out pink candies?" Marc exclaimed. "Of course she's angry, she's mad, she's sad, she's heart-broken. After all she did for the marriage, after all the compromise, and the endless apologizing for all of her wrongdoings… It's come back to this. She's not happy, Mandy, of course she's not."

"And it's my fault."

"And Daniel's."

"You know Marc, I really wish you would say _Oh no Mandy, it's not your fault_," she whispered, looking down.

"You want me to lie?" he asked, lifting an eyebrow. She smiled and shook her head no. He circled her shoulders and held her closer to him, she rested her head on his shoulder. "It will take time."

_I can't blame you for what you're doin' to me girl  
>even tho' my heart aches<em>

He still wasn't sure what he was doing, in the lawyer's office. He was sitting in the armchair, opposite the older man, sulking like a child while Betty, on the chair next to his, explained the situation. She had insisted to go with him because she knew he would mess everything up if he'd gone alone. And that was not what she wanted for him.

Their conversations were just a background noise in his ears, but still he could feel the lawyer's eyes piercing through him, awaiting some sort of reaction, unaware of the complete disinterest of the man standing in front of him.

"Mister Meade, I would like to hear your opinion on the matter," he said.

Daniel didn't even bother looking up. "I'm a cheating bastard, I don't deserve her, give her everything she wants."

"Daniel," Betty started, but the lawyer cut her off lifting a hand.

"I see," the man said, linking his hands over the desk. "And why exactly are you here today? What do you want from me?"

Daniel sat up straighter into his seat, shrugging. "I don't know, because they forced me?" he snapped, pointing vaguely behind his back.

"Who is they?"

"Everyone. Even Wilhelmina wanted me to get a lawyer, and that's why I'm here, but I don't care about this divorce, I just want to get it over with." He glanced at Betty before going back to toying with the buttonhole of his jacket. "I want to go on with my life. If she really doesn't want to try and work this out, then I want to move on and forget her as soon as I can."

_Your dreams have all come true  
>Just the way you planned them<em>

Wilhelmina's eyes followed the small water drop making its way down the cold tile of the shower. The hot water ran down her body from the shower head and her wet hair clung to her shoulders. When the drop was so far down that she couldn't see it anymore, she lifted her head and stepped fully under the water, closing her eyes and running her hands through her hair.

Just when the air couldn't reach her lungs for the water obstructed her nostrils she stepped back, taking in a large gulp of air. She leaned against the tile, her forehead coming in contact with the cold surface. She kept her eyes shut, and a chill ran down her spine.

All she could see, every time she closed her eyes, was Daniel's hands on a body that wasn't hers. The gleam of his wedding band in the moonlight, the sweat over his body, the twitching of his abs, everything brought her back to that night. And every time, the more she thought about it, the worse it got.

She could not forgive him, and she would never forget.

"Willie, are you in there?" came Marc's voice from outside the bathroom. Wilhelmina's head snapped up and she shook herself out her trance. "Come here, I have a surprise for you!"

"Just give me a second," she exclaimed, turning the shower off and walking outside the shower. She grabbed the towel and wrapped it around her body, checking herself into the mirror. No matter how much she tried to conceal it, it was all there. The crying, the lack of sleep, the reminiscing: everything was imprinted on her face.

She combed her hair, not bothering to dry it off. She let it fall down her shoulder and she opened the door, walking down the corridor, in the direction of Marc's voice. He was talking to someone, with a sweet, baby voice.

She entered her dining room and stopped on the threshold. Marc was sitting on the ground, talking to someone she couldn't see.

"Who are you talking to, Marc?" she asked. "Are you on the phone?"

Marc looked over his shoulder and smiled enthusiastically, motioning for her to join him in the middle of the room. She frowned and took a few steps, just enough to see what he was hiding.

"You can't be serious."

_So I'll just step aside, I'm gonna step aside  
>And lend a helping hand then<em>

At the same moment, in the Meade mansion, Claire walked into a room she had avoided for years. The imposing black desk and matching armchair towered in the room, just like the presence that invaded every object: from the paintings hanging on the walls, to the big soft red carpet, to the crystal whatnot on the desk. She closed the door behind her and walked slowly across the room, until she reached the desk.

She ran a finger on the edge, looking at the things surrounding her, as waves of memories overcame her. She hadn't been in Bradford's office ever since the man had passed away. He had his big office, in the Meade building, but this room had always been so dear to him. It was his escape from the world, whenever things got too heavy and he needed to find the strength inside himself to fight.

She knew it because she'd learnt to know him, and she had learnt that behind the mask of the powerful business mind lay a normal man, with his fears and insecurities, who needed to be alone and think about his own actions from time to time. She had given up, she knew she wasn't allowed into that room, nor were either of their children. It was Bradford's sanctuary, the only place that could not be touched by anyone, or anything. It was sacred, in a way, for him.

Today, walking in, after that many years, it felt sacred to her too. She could feel her husband's presence everywhere, today, but she desperately wanted to yell at him. So she did the only thing she could think of.

She looked at Bradford's painting, behind the desk, and shook her head.

"What did we do, Bradford?" she whispered. "It was our fault, Brad. We raised them in the belief that a life of scheming and cheating was the only way to go. What did we do?"

_'Cause I could never make you unhappy  
>no I couldn't do that girl<em>

The small, blonde, hairy ball looked up at her, with its round big eyes. Its tail wiggled madly and he tried to jump off Marc's knees, but the man got a hold of it and kept it tight to his chest.

"A dog," Wilhelmina deadpanned. "You bought a dog."

"It's a Labrador," Marc explained, lifting the puppy so that he was level with its muzzle. The dog's tail just wouldn't stop. "It's an adorable Labrador, ready to be your faithful friend."

"You got me a dog," she said, folding her arms against her chest.

Marc stood up, holding the dog up in front of her eyes. "Yes, I got you a dog. And you're going to accept it as the wonderful gift from your best friend."

Wilhelmina looked at the dog and lifted an eyebrow. "I'm not touching that thing."

"Yes, you are," Marc exclaimed, growing authoritative. He took a step closer and shoved the dog into Wilhelmina's arms. She held him, afraid she could let it fall, and Marc smiled satisfied, looking at Wilhelmina's terrorized look as she held the dog in her arms. "Hey, you had a baby, it can't be that different."

Wilhelmina held the dog up, staring into its eyes. Marc looked at them one more time and then turned his back on the two new acquaintances, walking up to the door. Wilhelmina spun around, holding the dog with one arm, clearly not at ease. "Where are you going?" she exclaimed. "You can't leave me alone with…it."

Marc smiled sheepishly. "It's a male," he told her, from the threshold. "I need to go back to the apartment and grab a few things, I'll be back later tonight."

"Marc!" she yelled, but the only answer she got was the slamming of the door.

So she stood there, in the middle of the room, holding an agitated little Labrador busy biting lightly on her finger. She looked at the ceiling and then brought her eyes down on the dog who looked up at her adoringly.

"Well, I guess I had my share of dogs and assholes, in my life," she said. "You can't be that bad."

_(So very hard to go) 'Cause I love you so  
>(So very hard to go) Oh, I love you so<em>

Meanwhile, miles away, standing above the monumental gravestone, stood the mysterious woman. After a long journey, she'd finally reached her destination, but not the people she'd ultimately wanted to reach.

There, in that graveyard, was the first person she'd come back to salute.

"I should have come earlier," she whispered, her fingers touching the golden engraved letters. "But you see, there's only so much you can do when everyone thinks you're dead."

The golden letters on Bradford Meade's gravestone shimmered and reflected into the woman's sunglasses. Fey Sommers was back.

_And it ain't easy to walk away  
>when a man love somebody<em>


	6. Do You Know?

**Do You Know?**

_Do you know what it feels like loving someone_

_that's in a rush to throw you away.  
>Do you know what it feels like to be the last one<em>

_to know the lock on the door has changed._

"That's the last of it, I think." Daniel looked around the small apartment and patted the bag he had slung over his shoulder.

Amanda smiled sadly. "Yeah, you didn't really bring much. I mean, you thought..." She cut herself off.

He dipped his head and gave a rueful smile. "I thought I'd be going back," he finished for her.

They both averted their gaze to the floor and stood in silence. Daniel eventually cleared his throat and looked up. "I should go."

He turned to walk for the door, but halted, turning back around; he walked to Amanda and gripped her upper arm, making her look at him. "I'm so sorry for bringing all this on you."

She laughed. "I was there too, if I remember correctly."

"Regardless, I'm the married man, and I'm sorry; I should have thought about what Wilhelmina could do to you if she found out."

"What about what she's doing to you?"

He shrugged. "I deserve it."

She couldn't answer him, she wanted to, she wanted to tell him he didn't deserve it, but he did, they both did. They had destroyed a marriage, broken a bond and shattered the trust of another person; a person who would now do whatever it took to achieve vengeance. "Do you think she'll ever forgive you?" she asked softly.

He sighed deeply. "No." He felt the air get sucked out of him, as if a physical blow had been dealt when he admitted it to himself. In that moment, right then, he knew he was not in a fight he could win. If his wife was ever going to forgive him then it would have to be on her terms, there would be no more grand gestures, no more fighting for her. All he could do was let her know he loved her and that he was sorry; after that it was down to her, and he knew she would never allow herself to forgive him.

Amanda saw the sadness creep up behind his eyes and she felt her already broken spirit fracture a little more for him. She pulled him into a hug and held him tight. "She loves you."

He returned the hug, squeezing fiercely, desperate to believe her words. They were still embracing, letting their shared guilt and angst flow through their hold, when they heard the door open. Pulling back; they saw Marc, his hand still on the doorknob, shaking his head and smiling disdainfully. "You two really want to add fuel to the fire don't you?"

Amanda took a step away. "Marc," she began, tiredly.

He held up a hand. "No Mandy, I told you. I'm trying to see this from both sides, I really am; but you make it kinda difficult when I come in to find this." He closed the door and walked past them, towards his bedroom. He stopped at the threshold but did not turn back. "I want to be there for you, I know you're hurting." He paused. "I need to pick up some more stuff. I want him gone by the time I come back out."

Daniel jumped as the door slammed with surprising force. For some reason it bothered him that Marc was so angry at him, that he seemed to hate him. He had known, of course, that he would be on Wilhelmina's side; but he felt that over the course of his relationship with Willie he had formed some semblance of a relationship with the man. To see the usually flamboyant, colourful man, who always had a smile on his face, a joke on his lips and spring in his step, be so filled with venom towards him, unnerved him. Marc was always the one who had made them see the trivialness of their petty arguments, his clear animosity towards him only compounded the fact that this was worse than he could have envisaged.

He pulled on the strap of the back around him and bent to retrieve his jacket. "Bye Amanda." Even his gait was defeated as he made his way out the door.

Amanda whispered, now completely alone. "Bye Daniel."

_If birds flying south is a sign of changes  
>At least you can predict this every year.<br>Love, you never know the minute it ends suddenly  
>I can't get it to speak<em>

Marc opened the door to Wilhelmina's apartment and called out to her, he was laden down with bags from his apartment. He unceremoniously dropped them at his feet and went in search of her. He walked through her lounge and opened the double doors to the hallway leading to the bedrooms. As the door opened he found a mass of red gnarled leather being thrust in his face.

"You owe me five hundred dollars!" Wilhelmina yelled as she dropped the ruined, drool covered mess into his outstretched hand.

"What is this?" He screwed up his face.

"This _is_ nothing, this _was_ a new pair of Manolo's. Your little gift certainly has expensive taste!"

Marc looked over her shoulder, worried. "Where is he?"

"I gave him to the Korean market across the street."

"You wouldn't," he gasped.

In response she merely arched her eyebrow. Marc smirked when he heard the tell tale yapping in the background. Wilhelmina sighed and indicated behind her. "It's in my bedroom."

He inched past her and walked down the hall, he opened the door to her room and saw the furry creature nestled on her bed. Wilhelmina walked in behind him. "That's the second time in a week I've found an uninvited blonde dog in my bed," she deadpanned, she walked to the bed and scooped the puppy up, bringing it to Marc. As she did so, Marc noticed that piece of furniture in question was different. A new bed now sat in its place: she was exorcising the room.

She placed the small wriggling lump in Marc's arms. "I know why you did this, and in some small way I even appreciate it; but I am not a dog person. I wear fur, not pet fur."

"Aw give him a chance." He smiled, bending his head to let the small animal lick his cheek enthusiastically.

"He can stay as long as you do," she relented.

Marc smiled and moved to sit on the edge of her bed, lifting the dog up to his face. "So." He started, addressing the dog. "Do we have a name yet?"

"Well, since he's arrived he has done nothing but crap all over my life and is much more trouble than he's worth, so I suppose I could go with Daniel."

Marc laughed and felt his heart left when he saw she was smiling. She could mention his name without the shadow of pain cross her face, it was a good sign. "Funny, but seriously, you haven't named him?"

She shook her head. "And I'm not going to. You want to name him, you name him, I'm not keeping it."

Marc pouted and scratched the dog's head, he lifted the happy bundle in front of his face, so it was facing Wilhelmina. "But look at me, I'm so cute! Pwease!" he said in his best childish voice. "Hewo." He waved the puppy's paw at her. "My name is Raoul."

"I am not having a dog named Raoul."

"I thought you weren't keeping him?" He grinned.

Wilhelmina rolled her eyes and tried to quash down the smile, not at amusement regarding Marc and the dog, but at the warmth she felt inside that she had her friend with her, in her hour of need, doing anything he could to try and lift her mood; no matter how ridiculous his attempts. Her thoughts were interrupted by the shrill ringing of the telephone, she walked to the far side of her bed, past her two pets playing on the bedspread and lifted the receiver.

Marc watched her, saw the imperceptible shift in her stance, the rigidity return to her body, the paling of her face. He tried to still the overexcited puppy on the bed as he studied her. She put the receiver down, but continued staring at it.

"Everything okay?" he asked tentatively.

She dragged her eyes from the telephone to meet his. "That was my lawyer. Daniel's been in touch, mediation starts tomorrow," she said sadly.

"Willie-"

She cleared her throat and snapped from her reverie. "What?" she barked at him, eyes hard.

"Nothing," he whispered, knowing she had crossed back into her comfortable shroud of denial.

_Maybe finding all the things it took to save us  
>I could fix the pain that bleeds inside of me<br>Look in your eyes to see something about me  
>I'm standing on the edge and I don't know what else to give.<em>

The knock came unexpectedly in the middle of the night. The older woman pulled herself from her bed and dragged her tired, cumbersome body to the door. It was no doubt her churlish time waster of a son, yet again in some form of trouble which he needed his affluent mother to solve. As she opened the door she was ready to rebuke the young man, but her words died in her throat when she saw her sister standing on the threshold. "Fey?" She gasped, feeling her heart constrict at the sight of her.

"Well for God's sake Julia, stand aside, I can't squeeze past your considerable girth."

She stepped aside, still on shock as her older sister swept past her, as if this was any other visit. She closed the door behind her. "What are you doing here? Do you have any idea how much money it cost to make you disappear?"

Fey removed her sunglasses, a ridiculous notion that she be wearing them in the first place as it was close to 2am. As she unwound the lavish scarf from around her neck and reached for the buttons on her coat, she laughed. "Of course I do dear, it's my money."

Her sister felt the shock lessen and her irritation rise. "So what? We go to all that effort, all that expense. We make the man you loved believe his wife killed you for crying out loud, for what? For you to make a dramatic return the moment you're bored?"

"I am not planning on making my presence known, other than to those who need me."

"Who in the world could need you?"

Fey threw her coat to her sister, whom she hated the sight of. "My daughter."

_Do you know what it feels like loving someone_

_that's in a rush to throw you away.  
>Do you know what it feels like to be the last one<em>

_to know the lock on the door has changed._

Wilhelmina sat in the restaurant at their usual table. She checked her watch, she was fifteen minutes late when she had arrived so she had assumed her fellow diner would already be there, rebuking her as she always did for her tardiness. Frustrated, she snatched up her Blackberry, checking the display she saw no missed calls or messages. She scrolled through her contacts and called the number she was looking for. It picked up almost immediately.

"It's the last Friday of the month, where the hell are you?" she offered as an irate greeting.

"I thought given the circumstances you would rather..."

"Oh for God's sake, I'm divorcing your son, does that mean we stop existing? If I'd known that I'd have married and divorced him years ago." She heard a low chuckle down the line. "Now sharpen those gnarled old claws, crawl out your cave and get your ass down here, you have until I finish my wine." She snapped the phone shut.

Fifteen minutes later she was draining the last few drops of Chardonnay from her glass when Claire appeared before her, sliding her body into the seat opposite. "That was quick."

"Well I knew I didn't have long, you can drink like a fish."

"Said the recovering alcoholic."

Claire smirked and picked up her menu, the act a mere formality seen as they ordered the same thing every time their monthly get-togethers rolled around. They had started this at Daniel's insistence, after they got married. He was adamant the two of them would at least try to put paid to the past and attempt a civil relationship, it was also a way to show the media that his mother was, at least outwardly, accepting of the marriage. The two women had agreed for Daniel's sake, neither realising that within a few short months, they would begin enjoying the lunch dates. That when they forced themselves to let go of the hatred and bullshit, because of their shared love for the same man, they would find they had much more in common than they thought.

And now being married to an adulterer could be added to the list.

The waiter approached and saw Wilhelmina's glass was dry. "May I get you another Mrs Meade?"

Claire saw her visibly blanche at the name, but she shrugged it off just as quick. "No, we'll both have a sparkling mineral water." She reached over and lifted Claire's menu from her hands. "She'll have the Ahi Tuna and I'll have a Nicoise." She didn't look at the man as she thrust the menus at him, dismissing him.

Claire looked at her, saw the crack appear in the wall and just as swiftly saw the mortar build back up. She never thought she'd live to see the day that her heart hurt for Wilhelmina Slater. Over the past two years she had been her daughter-in-law, she had come to see what Daniel had. She had come to appreciate the huge efforts the woman had put in to show her feelings for Daniel were real, that her marriage was paramount. It wasn't just the obvious things however, it was the small touches; like the minute she had sat down to lunch she had switched from wine to water, taking temptation from Claire's path.

"How do you stand it?" Willie's voice was so low, she wouldn't have known she had spoken had she not been watching her.

"Stand what?"

Wilhelmina looked back into her eyes. "Hearing his name, every time someone addresses you as Mrs Meade, how can it not kill you when he broke your heart?"

Claire smiled. "It did, for a long time; but I loved him and it got easier. Plus, it wasn't just his, it was my children's name too. When I hear it I don't just think of Bradford, it reminds me of the legacy he's left behind in my kids."

The waiter placed their glasses in front of them, Wilhelmina ran her finger along the top of the glass. "Well, that's not something I need to worry about, as you pointed out several times in the beginning."

Claire reached across the table and lifted Wilhelmina's hand from the glass, squeezed it tight and forced her to look at her. "He wanted you more, he made that clear."

She pulled her hand free and reached for her glass, taking a sip. "And look how well that turned out."

Claire drew her hands back to her side of the table and clasped them in front of her. "Are you really going through with it?"

She nodded slowly. "I'm not saying this to hurt you Claire, but I'm not you. I can't pretend everything's rosy, I can't bear the thought of him near me, knowing she was the last person he touched. As we've already established, there are no kids involved, I don't have a family to fight for."

"You two were a family," Claire pointed out.

She scoffed. "Yeah, we were about as functional as the Manson's."

Claire shook her head, a smile creeping over her features. "No, you two worked. Believe me, I know, I was the one willing the cracks to show, keeping my fingers crossed that the whole sorry mess would blow up. It didn't... You can get it back, you know."

"No we can't. Now eat your tuna." The meals were placed before them. Claire picked up a fork and started picking at the fish.

"So where are the two of you just now?" Wilhelmina raised an eyebrow at her. "I'm asking as a friend, not a mother-in-law."

"Mediation starts this afternoon."

Claire dropped her fork. "So soon! Wilhelmina, have you given this every thought, once that ball starts rolling it keeps gaining momentum and you will be hard pushed to stop it."

"Now what are you speaking as?"

"Someone who cares for her son's happiness, and against my better judgement, about yours too."

"Can we talk about something else?" She noisily stabbed her fork into her salad. Claire exhaled and resumed picking at her meal.

"I'm not pushing you out." Wilhelmina spoke, still engrossed in the food in front of her. Claire looked at her as she continued. "I'm not doing this as the vindictive power hungry woman I was, I'm just a scorned wife getting what's hers. You will remain in your current capacity."

Claire smiled. "Are you saying this as my daughter-in-law or my friend?"

"Neither." She smirked. "I'm saying it as your boss."

_How can I love you How can I love you_

_How can I love you How can I love you . . . .  
>If you just don't talk to me, babe.<em>

Amanda could feel the blood pounding in her temples, the heat rising up to her cheeks and the palms of her hands sweat as she rode up on the elevator. Riding in this steel box used to be a part of her everyday life, the memories it brought were filled with laughter; her and Marc gossiping about the newbies in the office, her and Betty in their later years working together, as friends. The shared atmosphere buzzing in the office when it was learned that its two opposing editors were on the verge of a new relationship; a relationship that had blossomed into marriage, a marriage which had suffered at her hands.

She knew her happy memories would be forever blocked by the new one she was creating right now. The Meade building would no longer house her recollections of good days gone by, she would always associate it with the eyes she now felt on her, judging her, blaming her.

The doors opened and she made her way down the tube, a path walked so many times before but that now felt much longer as the people she passed turned to stare at her. As she reached the end, she turned towards Wilhelmina's office. She had gone down to the accounting department to pick up her last royalty cheque since her contract was terminated. The accountant had told her, pitifully, that Ms Meade's assistant was holding all the pay-cheques from the last issue. She was about to make her way to where the young girl sat glaring at her when she felt a hand on her shoulder. Bracing herself, fear creeping up on her that she was about to relive Fashion Week, she turned around.

"Betty!" She threw herself in Betty's arms, relieved to see a friendly face. She had missed Betty and she needed someone on her side. Her jubilation was short lived when she realised Betty was not returning the hug.

She pulled back and saw a stoic expression on her face. "Can we talk about this?"

Betty nodded and walked to what once was Daniel's office. It was furnished sparsely, clearly a make shift office. "Whose room is this?"

"I'm using it while I'm here but I guess it will go to the new Creative Director when Wilhelmina finds one." Betty saw Amanda flinch. "I'm sorry, do you not like hearing Wilhelmina's name? I guess if you didn't want me to say Wilhelmina then you shouldn't have slept with Wilhelmina's husband and I wouldn't have had to take a trans-Atlantic flight to support him while Wilhelmina files for divorce." She threw in the name as often as she could to increase the girl's discomfort. "What the hell where you thinking?"

"I wasn't, B," she said softly.

"No Amanda, see that's why I'm so mad at you. You are not as stupid as you like to make out. You knew what the repercussions of this would be. Daniel...well Daniel's an ass, but he's suffering for it, he's in pain now. His marriage was in trouble and he made a bad choice, you're his friend Amanda, you should have looked out for him."

"I'm suffering too."

"You should be!" she yelled, but she unwillingly softened when she saw the moisture in Amanda's eyes.

"I'm sorry, I don't know how many more times I can say it! I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry!" She was bordering on hysteria. "I've apologised to you, to Daniel, to Wilhelmina, to Claire, to Marc; what else do you want? I know what I am ok, I'm the one who has to live with the world knowing she's a home-wrecker." Amanda let the tears fall.

Betty was taken aback by her friend's raw emotion and pulled her into a hug. "I'm sorry." She tried to quieten her. "I know you're sorry, I know you are. I just...I shouldn't take it out on you. I came here with a fully prepared lecture for Daniel and I saw the state he was in and backed down, when I saw you I guess I just went for the jugular."

Amanda wiped her eyes and pulled back. "It's fine. I know what I did, I know I deserve it. So come on, lay it on me." She smiled through her tears.

"You're not a bad person Amanda," Betty told her, causing fresh tears to spring from her eyes.

"I am."

Betty shook her head. "You're not, you just did a very stupid thing. I know you, I know you would never hurt anyone like that. Not intentionally, it was wrong of me to jump on you like that."

The two friends regarded each other silently. "So are you here long?" Amanda asked.

"Until Daniel is back on his feet, I can work out of here for a while," she nodded.

"Can we...can we go out some time, catch up?" she asked, hesitantly, afraid of being rejected by another friend.

"Well if you can tear yourself away from Marc for an hour or two, I guess I could grab a slice with you tonight if you want." She smiled, faltering when she saw the melancholy on Amanda's face.

"He's staying with Wilhelmina. He's doing for her what you're doing for Daniel. Its' nice they have people to support them."

Betty linked arms with her. "I'm on no-one's side here Mandy, I'll support you too."

_I flow through my act  
>The question is she needed<br>And decide all the man I can ever be.  
>Looking at the last 3 years like I did,<em>

She sat in her lawyer's office, staring at the prenuptial agreement in front of her. The words on the page had all merged together to become one indecipherable swirl of letters. The thumb and index finger on her right hand were absent-mindedly playing with the wedding and engagement ring on her left hand. Twisting them around the finger, as had become habit when she was nervous. One of the very few tells she had. She flexed the hand out in front of her and studied the two rings, they complimented each other beautifully and had been designed to Daniel's specifications. She knew that nestled on Daniel's finger was the mate to the bands she wore.

She wondered why she hadn't done the stereotypical, knee-jerk reaction and taken them off, throwing them in his face. She didn't want to take them off, she didn't want to not be married anymore; but she had too. She tugged at them and slid them off her finger, the digit feeling naked without its decor. She opened her purse and secreted them inside. She ran a fingertip along the now bare wedding finger, feeling the slight indentation the precious metal had left on her skin. Why had she done this here, she asked herself as she felt the unshed tears burn behind her eyes. She knew why, it was so she would fight the instinct building within her, she would not give in to her emotions in such a public place.

Just as she fought the last sliver of emotion away, the door opened and her lawyer's head appeared. "They're here."

She stood up, straightening her outfit, she took a look in the reflection of her lawyer's framed law degree and tried to ascertain if her make-up was perfect as ever. Satisfied as she could be with the red-rimmed, exhausted woman looking back at her, she followed her lawyer from the room.

Directly across from the main office, was a small boardroom; Daniel and a slender black haired man already sat at one side of the table. Daniel looked up as she entered, willing her to look at him. He saw her swallow, averting her eyes and walk to the seat across from him. As her lawyer sat next to her she turned her attention to the older man, avoiding Daniel at all costs.

Without dispensing pleasantries, Wilhelmina's lawyer passed a copy of the prenuptial agreement to Daniel's lawyer. "As you can see from this document, both parties entered into the contract with the proviso of a prenuptial; if you direct your attention to the highlighted clause, you will see it clearly states that if one party is cited as having irreconcilable behaviour within the marriage they stand to lose 50% of their patrimony to their spouse."

The lawyer merely skimmed the document before handing it to Daniel to peruse. He held up a hand and shook his head, he didn't need to see it. Wilhelmina's lawyer continued. "This of course includes adultery. As your client has admitted culpability for the demise of the contract, he is law bound to honour the agreement. That is unless a counter-claim is to be filed?" He raised his eyebrows at the men seated opposite.

Daniel was leaning on the arm of the chair, head resting on his hand, his palm covering his mouth. He shook his head, his voice muffled. "No, give her it. Just draw up the papers and I'll sign whatever she wants."

"Very well, as you are aware that stipulates any monetary or commercial assets you may have, including, but not limited to, Meade publications?"

Daniel nodded.

"The marital home shall also be returned to Ms Slater's ownership alone."

Daniel's lawyer cleared his throat. "That is all understood; we would however like to address the fact that as this is such a large settlement, no spousal support should be required after the termination of the contract."

"Would you stop saying contract?" The low growl came from Daniel. "This was not just a contract, it wasn't some business deal, it wasn't just a piece of paper we both signed, it was a god damn marriage."

"Daniel, calm down." His lawyer placated.

"I am perfectly calm, I just want the time we spent together to be acknowledged for what it was. We were married, we were husband and wife, ARE husband and wife." He looked at Wilhelmina and she quickly darted her eyes away.

"Willie, look at me," he begged.

"Are we done here?" she asked her lawyer, who nodded.

She stood up. "Willie," Daniel tried again , but he found himself talking to her back as she exited the room.

"I will have the paper's drawn up and messengered to you both." Her lawyer excused himself from the table and followed Wilhelmina.

Once the door closed and they were alone, his lawyer turned to him. "You know, she didn't address the issue of spousal support."

Daniel sighed. "She won't ask for it, she has too much pride to live off me for the rest of her life; although it would be much of a standard of living, considering what I'll be left with."

"Speaking of which, I hear from your young friend, Ms Suarez, that you're staying at the Four Seasons. That's hardly modest accommodation."

Daniel jumped on the defensive. "What do you want me to do? Stay in a flea pit, add to my fucking terrible situation? I can't stay with family, I can't stay with friends."

"I would advise you to start looking for your own apartment."

He shook his head. "No, no I'm not doing that. Not until the ink dries on those papers, not until I absolutely have to admit this is over. I need to keep believing she'll see sense. The Four Seasons is my only option until then."

His lawyer smiled at him, gathering papers into his case. "Actually, it's not."

_I could never see us ending like this.  
>Seeing your face no more on my pillow<br>Is a scene that's never happened to me.  
>But after this episode I don't see,<em>

_you could never tell the next thing life could be_

Wilhelmina let herself back into her apartment and her ears were immediately assaulted by a high pitched yapping sound. Why on God's green earth, did Marc think it would be a good idea to get her a dog of all things? She slammed the door and the noise distracted the small pup as it came tumbling into view, closely followed by Marc. "Constantine, come here!" He tried to wrench his ruined ascot from the creature's jaws. "Aw look, your mommy's home."

Wilhelmina sweat past them. "I am not his mommy and his name is most definitely NOT Constantine."

"Frederico?"

"No."

"Lucky?"

"No." She kept walking until she was in her longue and took of the black jacket she wore.

"How did it go?" Marc asked, changing the subject.

She shrugged, "The only way it could, my way. Can we not talk about it please?"

He nodded as she sat down. "I'll get you a drink." He left the room, but not before dumping the dog on her lap.

"Marc! Get this thing off me!"

"Can't hear you, pouring wine!" he yelled.

She looked at the Labrador on her knee. "If you drool, pee or crap on me I'll sell you to a furrier," she scolded. Checking Marc was nowhere to be seen, she picked it up and held it closer to her face. "What are you?" She studied it. "Armani? No too obvious. Dolce? It will be a cold day in hell before I name something after that Queen."

The dog squirmed in her grasp as the sound of the door opening again caught it's attention and it gambolled from the room. Wilhelmina got up and went after it, questioning who had just walked in her home. In truth she knew there was only one person it would be.

"What are you doing here?" she asked him.

"Woah, who's this little guy?" Daniel asked as the puppy pulled on his pants leg with its teeth.

"He doesn't have a name, anyway that's not important,why..."

"No name? We can't have that, can we Hudson?" He asked the dog.

"I'm not naming my dog after your transsexual sister's old magazine."

"I thought he wasn't your dog!" Marc shouted in the distance and she closed her eyes in annoyance.

She shifted her attention back to her husband. "Answer me, why are you here, and what are THOSE doing here?" she yelled as she saw the bags stacked behind him.

"I'm moving back in."

She laughed. "No, you're not."

"I have as much right to be here as you. I'm your husband."

"My estranged, soon-to-be-ex husband." she snapped.

He grinned, picking up the dog. "But your husband, none the less. You changed the deeds when we got married Willie, we both own this place."

"Not for long," she scoffed.

"That may be but until those papers are signed..." He cocked his head, smiling. "Honey, I'm home."

"I'm calling my lawyer."

He nodded. "You do that, I'm going to unpack, you coming Hudson?" He put the dog down

"Stop calling it that!" she fumed as he walked past her down the hall.

"HUDSON!" He shouted over his shoulder.

She narrowed her eyes as the dog responded to the name and followed Daniel. She hissed at it as he passed.

"Traitor!"

_Do you know what it feels like loving someone_

_that's in a rush to throw you away.  
>Do you know what it feels like to be the last one<em>

_to know the lock on the door has changed._


	7. What About Now?

**What about now?**

_Shadows fill an empty heart  
>As love is fading,<br>From all the things that we are  
>But are not saying.<br>Can we see beyond the scars  
>And make it to the dawn?<em>

Marc St. James was biting on his nails, watching as Wilhelmina paced the room they'd locked themselves inside. She was fuming, her hands clenched into fists at her sides, her eyes wide and incredulous. He could hear noises coming from the dining room, just two doors away, and an acute barking, along with Daniel's soft whispers to the animal.

"Marc, do something," Wilhelmina exclaimed, stopping in front of him and throwing her hands up in the air.

Marc furrowed his brows, and stood up hesitantly, clasping his hands together. "Shall I make tea?" he asked, putting on a smile.

"I meant do something about _this_!" she yelled, pointing vaguely around the room. "I'm not gonna spend one minute with that man living here, I kicked him out, no way he's staying here!"

Marc bit his bottom lip. "Willie, but legally…he has every right."

"I know!" she snapped. "I'm not interested into what's legal or not, knock him unconscious and drag him outside, kill him and throw his body in a dumpster, drug him and push him from the window. Whatever you do, do it now!"

Marc looked around desperately, and was almost relieved when the door opened and Daniel peeked inside.

"Get out!" Wilhelmina yelled before he could say anything.

"Uhm, Willie…"

"I said get out!" she repeated, springing forward and pushing him backwards, closing the door in his face. Turning round on Marc, she pointed to the door. "You see? He's already trying to talk! Talk! I don't want to talk with that asshole, Marc! I want him out of here!"

"But Willie, what am I supposed to do?" Marc asked with a clear hint of desperation in his voice. "Just ignore him!"

Daniel opened the door again and peeked inside, again. "Wilhelmina, I need you to-"

Once more she pushed his head back outside the room and slammed the door.

"How can I ignore him, Marc, when he keeps being a pain in the ass?" she hissed. "You don't what he's like, he's going to beg me to forgive him, he's going to be lovesick for the whole time! I want his sorry ass out of my sight, do you understand me? If he doesn't, I'll throw myself out of _that_window," she concluded, pointing parenthetically at the nearest window.

Marc glanced at the window and swallowed. "Look, I have a tiny momentary solution for our tragedy," he said. "I've already brought all my stuff in here, so I might as well stay in the house with you until the divorce is finalized and he has to leave. That would keep your alone-time with Daniel to a minimum, and you will _not_have to drink arsenic or whatever it is you're thinking of doing."

Wilhelmina folded her arms on her chest and sighed, looking at the ceiling. Scoffing, she shrugged. "I guess it will have to do," she said, shaking her head.

In that exact moment, Daniel knocked again and, without waiting for an answer, he opened the door wide and stepped in. Before Wilhelmina could yell at him again he raised his arms. "Wilhelmina, your sunglasses."

"My what?" she asked.

"Your sunglasses…The Chanel ones."

"What about them?"

"Hudson."

With that simple word, Wilhelmina gasped and ran past him, pushing him away, followed by Marc. When she stepped on the threshold of the dining room, she opened her mouth and stood agape, watching the little furry ball chewing on her sunglasses, comfortably sprawled over the couch.

She covered her eyes. "Marc, tell me those are _not_my sunglasses. Tell me you bought a pair which looked just like mine and it's _your_sunglasses he's chewing on."

"I guess I can tell you that, if that's what you want to hear," the boy said with a grimace.

The three of them, on the threshold, stared as the puppy lifted his eyes to them and barked happily, jumping off the couch and waddled around on his feet, the sunglasses abandoned on the couch. Wilhelmina ignored the dog and walked into the room, reaching the couch and lifting them holding the stick in between her thumb and her index.

She spun around and lifted the sunglasses so that Marc and Daniel could see them. "Weren't _you_with him?" she asked Daniel.

Marc's eyes darted in between the two of them, and feeling the atmosphere change into an uncomfortable one he picked up the barking dog and left the room. Wilhelmina and Daniel were left squaring each other down.

"I couldn't catch him on time," he explained.

"You mean you couldn't _control_him?" she exclaimed, tossing the glasses carelessly on the couch. "Funny, that seems to be the source of many of your issues, lately. Me having too much, you having too little."

Daniel decided he wouldn't answer. He was tired of apologizing, he was tired of being abused for the mistake he'd make. True, he'd been an idiot, but he couldn't pay for it forever. If she wanted to pick a fight, fine, he would let her take it out on him, but he would not rise to the bait.

"Look, I don't know in what little part of your brain the idea of staying here seemed like a good one, but you're right, I can't throw you out until this house is legally mine. But don't worry, I'll wait. Till then, be my guest."

"Where am I staying?" he asked her before she could walk away. "The guestroom is full of stuff."

"Marc is sleeping in the guestroom," she stated.

"Marc is staying here?" Daniel whispered, unable to hide the disappointment. "Why?"

"Because I need someone I can trust," she said. "That person is clearly not my cheating bastard of a husband." She nodded in a mocking bow and walked away, brushing past him. She stopped when their bodies were close enough that they could smell each other's perfume, but not close enough to be touching. She glanced at him sideways. "You can sleep on the couch."

He stood there watching the spot she'd just vacated. He had wanted to hold her, to kiss her, to feel her against him, to tell her he loved her. Instead, he'd let her walk away, because he knew that was what she wanted.

_Change the colors of the sky.  
>And open up to<br>The ways you made me feel alive,  
>The ways I loved you.<br>For all the things that never died,  
>To make it through the night,<br>Love will find you._

Betty and Amanda were escorted to their table by a young blonde waitress. They sat down and looked at their menus silently, ordering shortly after. After the waitress had walked away, they looked around, drowning in an awkward silence. Betty looked at Amanda, who was picking on her nails nervously, and decided that if someone had to talk first, it had to be her.

As if on cue, Amanda looked up and smiled at Betty. "Thank you for taking me out," she said. "Who would have guessed, six years ago, that you would be the only one who was still my friend?"

Betty snorted. "Don't be silly," she said. "Marc is your friend. But he's Wilhelmina's friend too, and you can't blame him for deciding to help her. I mean, you couldn't have thought he would just abandon her. And what's more, it's not like he picked her over you, he just made a quick calculation of the one who was hurting the most."

"I'm hurting too," Amanda said, narrowing her eyes lightly.

"I know, I never said you weren't, no need to bite my head off," Betty explained. "But forgive me if I tell you, in this situation, it's not you who's been hurt by the person you love. You're not in love with Daniel."

At Amanda's silence, Betty frowned.

"You're not, Amanda, right?"

Amanda rolled her eyes. "Of course I'm not," the girl exclaimed. "But I can't help but compare what happened with the…you know, Bradford's situation. With my mother."

"Oh no," Betty intervened, shaking her head. "No, no, no. This is _so_ different, Amanda."

"How so? You don't know what it was like between the two of them!"

"And neither do you," Betty pointed out. "But what I do know is that Mister Meade had feelings for your mother, Amanda. If he hadn't, no way in hell that relationship would have lasted as long as it did, because he loved Claire, and only an equally strong feeling could keep him in between. What you and Daniel have, Amanda, is…non-existent."

"Well, thank you Betty, now I really know who I have to call the next time I'm feeling blue," Amanda deadpanned. "Ever thought of auditioning as Dr Phil's assistant? You could make yourself a great living out of that career."

"Irony's not going to work, Amanda," Betty continued. "You need to tell yourself that what happened was meaningless, because that's what it was to Daniel. And I know that deep inside you're aware of that, or you wouldn't tell him that Wilhelmina loves him at every given chance. You deserve more than that, Mandy. You deserve so much more than that."

Amanda smiled. "Thank you, B."

Betty nodded, then picked her napkin from the table and spread it over her laps. "So, how's the big stylist career coming along?" she asked, changing subject.

"Well, I was doing great, before this incident. You have no idea of the celebrities I have in my notebook," she said, smirking widely. "And I'm not talking d-list, I'm talking big names. Like, Oprah big."

"You're styling Oprah?" Betty squealed, her eyes wide.

"Oh no!" Amanda added quickly. "I meant the size."

Betty chuckled and Amanda smiled widely, reaching for her friend's hand over the table and squeezing it. They exchanged a look, and there was no need to say anything else. They knew they were ok.

"Excuse me?"

They both turned to look at the woman who had approached their table. She was not very tall, and overall not attractive. She couldn't be under sixty years old, the wrinkles on her face told them. She was wearing a red coat that did little to slim her imposing figure.

"How can I help you?" Betty asked, but the woman's eyes were fixed on Amanda.

"I'm sorry, are you Amanda Sommers?" she asked the girl, who was surprised at hearing her real birth name.

"Yes," she whispered. "Who are you?"

"I'm from the New York Review," the woman replied, with a gleam in her eyes. Something in the way she was looking at her made Amanda uncomfortable, like she was studying her from underneath the blunt dark bangs. "I would like to ask you a few questions on your mother, Fey Sommers."

Betty and Amanda exchanged a confused look, and then the blonde girl turned to the other woman. "My mother is dead, I never met her."

"I see," the woman said, never taking her eyes off her. "Well then I guess this is how far we can go," she concluded, nodding courteously and leaving the girls at their table. She retreated away from their sight and stood in the shadow of the restaurant. She took her cell phone and dialed her apartment's number, and a familiar voice answered.

"Julia," said the woman on the other end. "Did you see her?"

"Yes," Julia Sommers answered, his eyes still fixed on the girl who, at the table, was sharing a small laugh with the unlikely bright friend. "She's clueless."

_What about now?  
>What about today?<br>What if you're making me all that I was meant to be?  
>What if our love never went away?<br>What if it's lost behind words we could never find?  
>Baby, before it's too late,<br>What about now?_

Tossing and turning underneath the silk new sheets, sleep just seemed to be out of reach for her. She kept thinking about the intrusive presence in her house, not only physical but also psychological. She felt violated on so many levels, and her anger just couldn't seem to let her rest that night.

She turned on her side and found herself face to face with the little puppy, who was rolled up beside her, his muzzle on the pillow that used to be Daniel's. She listened quietly to his breathing and without realizing it, her hand sneaked up to the dog's ear, scratching lightly behind it. The dog's eyes shot open at the contact, and his tail began to flap on the mattress. Besides those small movements, however, little Hudson didn't move, and just stood there, watching as his _mom_ finally showed him a sign of acceptance.

Wilhelmina's hand moved to cover the dog's paw and held it, smiling as the dog closed his eyes again. In a few minutes, the dog's breathing evened and she knew he was asleep. She closed her eyes, too, letting the dog's quiet snoring soothe her pain.

Meanwhile, in the other room, on the couch, Daniel was having trouble sleeping too, even if for completely different reasons. In the two years of their marriage, this was not the first time he'd slept on the couch. Sure, half the other times she had ended up joining him on the couch, telling him she forgave him for whatever crap he'd managed to pull, and eventually they'd spend the night together. The other half, he would just wake up and find her staring down at him with an accomplished smirk, but yet he knew they would solve it eventually.

This time, sleeping on the couch in his own apartment hurt, because he felt like a stranger. He knew Wilhelmina would not join him, that night, just like he knew he wouldn't find her staring down on him in the morning. He sat up, pushing the duvet away and standing up.

The thought of her, sleeping alone in their bed, was killing him. If he could just look at her, be sure she was fine, glance at her and remember what it was like to watch her sleeping… It would be enough for him. It had been a few days, and he missed their routine, he missed their life together. The thought he would have to grow accustomed to the lack of a routine was tearing him apart inside.

He padded across the room, standing on the threshold that faced the corridor for a little while, studying every door before his eyes fell on the door at the far end of the corridor: their bedroom.

He began to walk towards it slowly, the knot in his stomach tightening with each step he would take. When he was standing in front of that door, he looked down and tried to hear any noise coming from the inside. When he couldn't hear anything, he placed his hand on the doorknob and started to turn it slowly.

"Don't," came a low voice behind him.

He spun around and watched as Marc stood on the threshold to the guestroom, staring him down.

"I just-"

"Don't," the boy repeated. "Leave her alone. She doesn't deserve what you're doing to her."

Their voices were hushed whispers, but in the silence of the house, and the silence of their souls, they sounded like cannon shots. Marc turned his back on Daniel and walked down the corridor, disappearing into the kitchen. Daniel shot a last glance to the door and his hand left the doorknob, his arm falling down his side. He turned around and walked back into the kitchen, where he found Marc pouring himself a glass of water.

"I didn't mean to wake her up," Daniel explained.

"I don't want to know what you wanted to do, I don't care," he said, putting the bottle of water back into the fridge. "But whatever it is, don't. Let her move on."

"I'm not ready to move on, Marc," Daniel whispered. "Marc, you've seen it all. You've been there when it all began, and you've been there as it developed into what brought us to get married. You've been there, and you've been our main witness. How can you help her erase every trace of me from her life? You know she loves me, and you know perfectly well how much I love her. You should be persuading her to give me a second chance, you shouldn't be buying pets to help her compensate my absence."

Marc was doing his best to ignore him, but there was little he could do when, on his way outside the room, Daniel grabbed him by the elbow and forced him to turn around.

"You broke her heart, Daniel!" he exclaimed, keeping his voice hardly above a whisper. "You broke her heart, and the only thing I can do is try and show her it's not over, that her life can go on, because despite all she's trying to show to the world, inside she feels like her life is _over_!" He shrugged Daniel's hand off himself and shot a last scathing look. "So, forgive me if I'm trying to help her go on with her life. A life you kindly smashed up."

Daniel let him go, and was left alone, into the kitchen, regretting his sins, and wishing he would be able to fix the damage he'd done, wishing he would be able to fix _her_.

But he didn't know how.

_What about now?  
>What about today?<br>What if you're making me all that I was meant to be?  
>What if our love, it never went away?<br>What if it's lost behind words we could never find?  
>Baby, before it's too late,<br>What about now?_

The noise of the door creaking opened shook her from her usual trance, and turned off the shower. She peeked over the shower's partition and met Daniel's eyes.

"What are you doing?" she asked him.

"Brushing my teeth," he answered, avoiding eye contact. He looked like hell, the dark circles under his eyes spoke volumes about his sleepless night.

"Well, wait till I'm out of here," Wilhelmina snapped, assuring her body was safely hidden behind the partition.

"Nothing I haven't seen before," he said, exhausted, pointing at the form of her body visible through the opaque partition.

"Well, something you won't see ever again!" she snapped, slamming the partition closed and turning on the shower angrily. She could hear him moving around the bathroom, and her head started pounding furiously. "You know Daniel, this is not going to work."

"What?" he asked, thrusting the toothbrush into his mouth.

"I know what you're doing," she said over the noise of running water coming from both the shower and the sink. "You think being here will make me change my mind. Well, I have bad news for you, this finagling… it won't work."

"I have no idea what you're talking about," Daniel answered honestly, rinsing his mouth.

"Yeah, right."

He leaned back against the sink, folding his arms and looking at her opaque reflection. "I mean it," he stated. "I'm here because I can't stay at my mom's because she kicked me out. I can't stay at the _Four Seasons_because it's better to save as much money as I can, seen as you're going to have me broke in less than a month. This is really the only place where I can stay. And I promise it'll only be for a short time, until the…papers are ready."

Wilhelmina swallowed at Daniel's mention of the _papers_. She turned the shower off and they stood in silence, both staring at each other's distorted contours through the opaque glass. He pushed himself off the sink and walked up to the shower. Wilhelmina gasped when he slid the partition wall open. Her eyes widened and she took a step back. She didn't have anywhere to run, nothing to cover herself with: she stared into his eyes.

He looked at her for an eternity, his lips slightly parted, his eyes travelling down her body. When their eyes locked again, a small sad smile curved his lips. "I miss you."

She shook her head. "Get the fuck out."

_Now that we're here,  
>Now that we've come this far,<br>Just hold on.  
>There is nothing to fear,<br>For I am right beside you.  
>For all my life,<br>I am yours._

Julia poured some strong black coffee into Fey's cup and handed it to her sister, who was sitting on a stool next to her. "How did you sleep?"

"I told you so many times that you need to change that mattress," Fey answered, massaging her neck. "I bet the empty coffin is more comfortable."

"Why do you have to keep joking about that?"

"Oh, come on Julia lighten up," Fey exclaimed. "Someone's dead." she added, smirking.

Julia rolled her eyes and scoffed. "Whatever."

Before she could leave the room, Fey placed a hand on her sister's arm, stopping her. "How was she?" she asked, referring to her sister's meeting with Amanda the night before.

"She's beautiful," Julia said, smiling. "But her face is much softer than yours."

"Is she fat?" Fey asked, lifting an eyebrow.

"No," Julia said, snorting. "It's just her features are much…sweeter than yours."

"Oh, so you're saying I'm a rough-edged bitch," Fey stated.

"Fey, you would be so much more fun if you were dead."

Fey sipped from her cup. "I've been told that before."

Julia walked around the kitchen, tidying up and cleaning up. Fey observed her over the rim of her mug, sipping from time to time. Her sister had grown old, while she was still so much fresher and her face was much leaner than the round face of the woman.

"What are you going to do now?" Julia asked.

"I need to see someone," Fey said, checking her watch. "Tonight."

"Your daughter?"

"Oh no," Fey exclaimed, smirking. "I have somewhere I need to be tonight. Can you drop me and wait in the car for me till I'm out of there?"

"Where?" Julia repeated, confused. "It can't be what I'm thinking, right?"

"It has to be it."

_What about now?  
>What about today?<br>What if you're making me all that I was meant to be?  
>What if our love never went away?<br>What if it's lost behind words we could never find?_

Later in the morning, Wilhelmina entered the kitchen and was surprised to see a suitcase in the hallway. She felt huge relief overcome her, as she realized Daniel had finally given up, and was probably already packing his stuff to leave the place. She was smiling widely when Marc came behind her, his phone pressed to his ear, talking animatedly.

Seeing her, he snapped the phone shut immediately. "Willie," he said pleasantly. "Willie, Willie, Willie. Did I tell you how incredibly _amazing_you look today? Because you do, you look so breath-takingly-"

"What did you do, Marc?" Wilhelmina asked. In that moment, Hudson came barking into the room, and jumped madly at Wilhelmina's feet. She smirked at the small dog and picked him up. "Don't lick me," she said.

"Aren't you going at Mode today?" Marc asked, trying to postpone the moment when he would have to tell her.

"I'm going in late, today," she said, sitting on the stool with the dog on her laps. Hudson began to play with the pendant hanging from her neck. Wilhelmina slapped his paw and held the necklace out of his reach. "Marc, answer the question. What did you do?"

Daniel chose that instant to walk in and nodded briefly to both Marc and Wilhelmina before circling the counter and pouring himself a cup of coffee.

Wilhelmina followed him with her eyes and smirked. "I see you've finally seen reason," she said, Marc's argument long forgotten. "I must say I thought you were more stupid."

Daniel squinted his eyes and turned to Marc with a bewildered expression. Marc had his eyes closed and a grimace on his face as he witnessed the scene. He knew he was about to be murdered.

"Willie…" Marc tried, but Wilhelmina was too busy gloating at Daniel's decision to leave the house to let that victorious moment pass by and not take advantage.

"Tell me if you need help packing, I would be more than glad to have someone help you speed things up," she added, stroking the puppy in her laps."

"Willie, he's not going anywhere," Marc intervened. Wilhelmina turned to look at him and tilted her head. "I am," he continued. "They need me in SoCal as soon as possible, they're having trouble in the Los Angeles division, and I'm the most experienced in the Fashion department to handle the situation."

Wilhelmina's eyes widened. Her hand flew to Marc's collar, the brusque movement causing Hudson to leap up and grow agitated on her lap. "Don't you dare, Marc," she hissed. "You can't leave now, you said you'd be here."

Marc tilted his head back, trying to get free from her grip. "I know, but it's work, I can't exactly say no Willie!" He lifted his hands to his face. "Don't scratch me."

She let go of him, pushing him backwards. Hudson was barking in his high-pitched tone, confused at the mayhem. Still sitting on the stool, she spun around and shot Daniel a glance, and was shocked when she saw him chuckling.

The man circled the counter again and walked up to her, picking Hudson from her laps. "Let's go, Hudson," he told the dog in a baby voice. "Mommy needs time to calm down. Now Daddy is going to show you how to pee in a Manholo."

"You are not his daddy," Wilhelmina yelled after him. "And keep him away from my closet. No, you know what? _You_stay away from _my_bedroom."

But she was yelling at a door, since Daniel had left the room. Marc was shifting uncomfortably on his feet, not knowing what to say. Wilhelmina turned to him and narrowed her eyes. "If something happens, anything, I'm putting the blame on you. He might try and kill me while I'm sleeping, Marc."

"Why do all of your scenarios end up with you dying tragically?" Marc said, trying to light up the tension, but Wilhelmina's glare put an end to the weak attempt. "Willie, I'm sorry, but I just got the call, I would have told you earlier. I swear I'll be back before you can say _Alexander McQueen_."

"That's a very long name, Marc," she said, leaning her elbows on the counter and placing her head into her hands. "Why not Versace?"

"Because I don't like her hair."

With that he placed a hand on her shoulder and squeezed it, in a way of saying goodbye, and left the room. As soon as she heard the entrance door slam closed, and she realized she was alone with Daniel in the place that held so many memories of them, in a time where they were happy, her heart sank deep into her stomach.

"Where's our bed?"

Wilhelmina turned to the threshold, where Daniel was standing, holding Hudson in his arms, with a defeated look on his face.

She shrugged. "By now, I'd say it's probably in some dumpster in Virginia."

"You gave our bed away?" Daniel asked, incredulous.

"No, I didn't give _our bed_away," she said, getting up. "I gave away the bed that you had sex on with another woman. I gave away the mattress that_you_jumped on with your divertissement. I gave away _a_bed, not _our_bed. That was no longer our bed."

She walked up to him and picked the dog up from his arms. "And _this_ is my dog."

_Baby, before it's too late,  
>Baby, before it's too late,<em>

That night, Claire Meade looked down at the papers spread on her desk, in the empty Mode office. The day had been slow if compared to others, but Wilhelmina's bad mood had been so evident since the moment she'd stepped out of the lift, that morning, that everyone had done their best to keep her content. The day had reached its close on a good assessment: eventually, only two people had been fired, and three concepts had been rejected.

Much better than the ten people that had been fired just the day before.

The neon light flickered and the room was invaded by the darkness. Claire reached to the small lamp on the desk and switched it on. That was the janitor's way to tell her he needed to clean up the office and she had to leave. She smiled to herself and collected the files from the desk, piling them all up.

Then, something caught her attention. There was no noise coming from the other rooms, no sign of the cleaning service, not a single whisper nor any other noise. It was weird. If no one was there, who had disconnected the general switch?

She looked up and tried to make out any form outside the circular window of the office, but everything was surrounded by darkness. She remembered someone telling her that there had been a problem with a wire in the conference room, that morning, so she relaxed a bit. There must have been a contact, in the electricity system. She would call the electrician in the morning.

She picked up the stack of papers and held it against her chest, but stood motionless when she heard a single repeated noise. A click. Not a normal click, it was a click of heels. Asking herself what Wilhelmina was doing in the office so late, she dropped the papers on the desk again and circled it, walking to the door. She squinted, trying to understand where the sound was coming from, but just as she did that, it stopped. The whole office was dark, except for a stripe of light coming from the far end of the corridor.

Daniel's old office.

She began to walk down the corridor, the glass window growing gradually bigger as she drew closer. As she stood in the middle of the corridor, she could see the office was empty, but the lamp was on. She tilted her head and covered the distance until she was standing on the threshold. She stepped inside, noticed Betty's papers scattered over the desk, and remembered the girl was using the office now that she was back in town. But there was something odd. The armchair was pulled back and facing the window.

With another few steps into the room, Claire was able to make out a head peeking from the tall back of it. She couldn't tell who it was, but the hair color was clearly not Betty's, and Wilhelmina was taller than that.

"Can I do something for you?" she asked, her voice willingly questioning and partly accusatory.

When the armchair spun around, Claire took a step back and felt as if her own legs were failing her. Her eyes widened and the air was sucked right out of her lungs as she stared into the eyes of the ghost of her past.

"Hello Claire," Fey said, her fingers drumming onto the desk that had for many years been righteously hers. "Long time no see, huh? I think the last time we were actually together was just a few hours before I was declared dead."

"You are dead," Claire whispered.

"Sorry, try again," Fey exclaimed, smiling wickedly. "You would be amazed at the pros of having friends working into the city morgue. And fire, Claire…fire was such a bad choice. Fire can melt your skin to the point that it's impossible for them to actually recognize your body. No finger prints, no teeth imprints, no signs. You could almost say you could slip anyone's body in there, and they could recognize it as yours."

"How…How on Earth did you…I saw you. I saw you get into that car, I followed you."

"And how very sweet of you, I might add," Fey said, with a fake smile. "But you see, one thing about having such a distinctive haircut is…anyone who wears one like yours can be mistaken as you."

Claire swallowed and braced herself. "What do you want? Bradford is dead, I'm sure you know that. What more could you possibly want from my family?"

"See, that's where you're wrong, Claire, I'm not here for your family." Fey said, her voice changing from the false sweet pretending voice into a more serious tone. "I'm here for mine."

"What are you-" Claire started but the words dies on her throat. She shook her head and scoffed. "I see. I guess I should have expected it. It's the same old story, twenty years later, isn't it? A Sommers trying to reach what clearly isn't hers to take."

Fey smiled and stood up. "You see, Claire, on the contrary. This couldn't be more different."

Claire narrowed her eyes but didn't say anything, letting Fey go on. The woman let her fur fall down on the chair and walked more freely without the cumbersome garment, stepping away from the desk and in front of it, standing a mere meter away from Claire.

"I'm here because I don't want my daughter to make the same mistake I did."

"You mean being a slut?" Claire chimed in, lifting an eyebrow.

Fey's eyes narrowed into two slits and she let out a cold mirthless chuckle. "You're so classy," Fey said, shaking her head.

"So, why are you here? And I mean here at Mode. Why did you need me?" Claire asked.

"I hate this as much as you do Claire, but we both know we have a common interest in this situation. You don't want your son to be just another Bradford, and I don't want my daughter to be the second choice of a rich jerk."

"What are you suggesting?" Claire questioned, bewildered. "You and I can't be in the same room without killing each other."

"If your son and _my_Wilhelmina got married, I'd say there are chances of survival for the two of us too."

_Baby, before it's too late,  
>What about now?<em>


	8. Broken Strings

**Broken Strings**

_Let me hold you, for the last time_

_It's the last chance to feel again_

_But you broke me_

_Now I can't feel anything_

Betty sat at in her makeshift office, scrolling through emails on her laptop. It felt alien to her to be sitting with the Mode office without Daniel near her; and she was truly uncomfortable to be sitting at what she still thought of as his desk. She had called his room at the Four Seasons last night, only to be told he had checked out. He hadn't answered his cell and she was searching her mountain of emails to see if he had tried to contact her.

She was still having a hard time assimilating the scenario in her mind. She'd be lying if she said she had never thought about what would happen if the marriage ever imploded; everyone had. It was only natural given the history between the couple. However, almost anyone you asked would say that they thought the relationships downfall would be Wilhelmina's doing, not Daniel's; she was the tempestuous one; she was the one with the past. In the beginning it had felt like a ticking time bomb. Each day, when she had tentatively asked Daniel how things were going, she had always been relieved and surprised when a smile lit up his face and he replied "Great."

Betty hadn't seen much of them as a married couple, having left for London shortly after their wedding, but she had called regularly and whenever she had visited or when Daniel had taken Wilhelmina over to Mode UK, they had always been happier than she would have ever expected of the two.

"So, you thought you'd set up camp in one of my offices but don't even come in for a friendly catch up?" The sarcastic drawl pulled her attention away from her task to Wilhelmina, who was standing in the middle of the room having entered the office unnoticed.

"Wilhelmina." She pushed her glasses onto the bridge of her nose. "How are you?"

Wilhelmina smirked at the young girl and carried on, avoiding the question. "So I'm guessing it was you who so kindly pointed out to Daniel that he could legally move back into the apartment?"

Betty stood up, hands splayed on the desk. "He what!"

Wilhelmina scoffed; "Come on now Betty, you expect me to believe that his furry little cheerleader isn't the one championing his cause?"

"Wilhelmina, I'm not championing anyone's cause. This is a terrible situation and I'm just trying to support a friend. I would never have told him to encroach on your space when you clearly need to be apart from him." Betty moved around the desk and walked past Wilhelmina to close the door, turning around she leaned back against it.

"So, you didn't answer me, how are you?" she tried again softly.

Wilhelmina smiled and crossed her arms in front of her. "I'm positively gleeful Betty, how do you think I am?"

Betty nodded; "I understand how awful this must be for you but surely there's some-"

Wilhelmina uncrossed her arms and threw them up in the air. "Why does everyone keep telling me we can work through this?"

Betty smiled sadly, "Because we all know you love each other."

"Betty, I am not Daniel, I don't need one of your little inspirational pep talks to see me through this. My eyes are firmly on the prize, I have my own way of dealing with things." She walked towards Betty and jerked her head to the side, telling her to move from her path.

Betty stepped aside and Wilhelmina wrenched the door open, Betty walked part way back to her desk. There was no animosity when she spoke, only sadness at the situation. "I'm sure you do Wilhelmina, and I'm sure you'll get what you want...you always do."

This stopped Wilhelmina in her tracks and she turned on the threshold. "What I want?" She whispered. A disbelieving smile crept on her face as she repeated with a laugh, nodding; "What I want? What I want is to go find that little blonde friend of yours, wrap my hands in those Rapunzel locks and throw her off every wall I can find. What I want is to lock myself in my room, away from the world and cry until I'm raw." She swallowed. "What I want is to wake up next to the man I married and find out this was all one big bad dream. Trust me Betty; Wilhelmina Slater never gets what she wants."

"You still love him."

She nodded softly. "I do...but it's not enough."

_When I love you, it's so untrue_

_I can't even convince myself_

_When I'm speaking,_

_it's the voice of someone else_

Daniel was shifting Marc's belongings into one corner of the guest room. He'd be damned if he was going to sleep on the couch in his own home if there was a perfectly good bed lying empty. Wilhelmina wouldn't be happy about his presumption, but she was mad enough at him for everything else that it would hardly cause a change in her temperament. Just as he was stripping the bedclothes, getting thoroughly tangled up in the sheets, he heard a knock at the door.

Almost tripping over the cantering ball of fluff at his feet, he picked Hudson up in one hand as he walked down the hallway. He chastised the small dog half-heartedly for contentedly chewing on his little finger as he opened the door.

"Mom?"

"Daniel?" They greeted each other in unison, each as surprised to see the other.

"What are you doing here?" He asked her.

"I needed to speak with Wilhelmina."

"Couldn't you have done that at work?" He was still stinging from the rejection he'd received at his mother's hands.

"I wasn't in the office today." She stated, not offering any further explanation. Thankfully he never sought elaboration; she highly doubted anyone would believe she spent the day conversing with a corpse.

Daniel nodded and stepped back, ushering his mother inside. "She should be home soon, I guess, I mean it's not like she keeps me apprised of her schedule anymore."

Claire hesitated on the threshold, her relationship with her son was still tumultuous. She wanted to comfort her child but at the same time she was so full of anger toward him for his actions. For becoming nothing more than his father, when he saw how much damage Bradford had caused the family, and for forsaking the Meade legacy for nothing more than a quick fumble.

Daniel sensed his mother's uncertainty. "Mom, come on, please?" He held the door wider.

She gave him a tight smile and stepped into the apartment. Looking around for a distraction so she wouldn't have to have the conversation she knew they needed to have, she was grateful when she spotted the pair of doe-like brown eyes staring up at her from Daniel's arms.

"What is that?" She recoiled.

Daniel chuckled. "This is Hudson." Daniel jiggled the dog in his hand.

"You got a dog?" Her eyebrow rose.

"Actually he's Willie's."

"Wilhelmina got a dog?" She exclaimed.

Daniel shrugged and walked down the hall to the lounge. "Marc did, he thought she could use a loyal man in the house." He slumped down on the couch, not yet cleared of the sheets and duvet he had been using.

Claire sat down on a chair opposite him. "I was going to ask you if your presence here was a sign that you two were working this out; clearly not." She indicated the mess he sat on.

Daniel sat the dog down and immediately it bolted down the hallway. "Shit!" Daniel snapped, knowing that Wilhelmina's bedroom door was open and the canine terror had developed a taste for couture. Without an explanation to his mother, he shot after the puppy.

Claire slowly stared around the open plan lounge, the sliding doors were open, revealing the dining room and kitchen in the background. She had been in the house on a handful of occasions before Daniel and Wilhelmina had been a couple, and that is all it had been; a house. Beautiful, yes, but nothing more than an aesthetically pleasing array of fine objects and decor, a showroom; Daniel had moved in just over a year into their relationship. In the three years he had been there, it had gradually turned from a house into a home. She couldn't pin-point exactly what changes he had brought about, couldn't see anything that stood out as dramatically different; perhaps it was just his presence that seemed to lift the aura of the place. She sighed as she realised that soon it would transform back into the empty husk it once was; she was sure the same could be said for its owner.

Daniel came back into the room, the eternally hyper Hudson yapping at him as he dangled a sock for him to play with, trying to distract him from the Gucci purse he had set his sights on in the closet. He sat back down on the couch and threw the sock at the dog, who happily curled up and began chewing on it.

Mother and son sat in silence, both pretending to be fascinated by the animal in the corner. Claire finally broke the awkward silence. "Wilhelmina tells me that mediation started on Friday."

Daniel nodded deeply, head pointed to the ground, his elbows rested on his knees as he hunched at the edge of the couch. "And ended."

"What do you mean?" She asked, genuinely concerned.

"Well, we didn't address spousal support, but I doubt she'll even want that. I told them to give her everything."

She sighed and bowed her head. She knew this would happen, but it still didn't prepare her for the finality of it. "You couldn't have even tried to fight it?"

"What could I do Mom? The pre-nup was solid. I fucked up, I owe her."

"Well I told you from the beginning that your prenuptial agreement was ridiculous. A pre-nup is supposed to protect your assets, not destroy them."

"We did it to prove our relationship to people Mom, and we did it to protect our marriage. We knew more than most what it would cost us if we messed up. It gave us more of a reason to fight for it when things got bad." He still hadn't looked at her.

Claire studied him, the defeated bow of his shoulders, the deep, controlling breaths he took. She knew; then and there, he wasn't his father, he was not Bradford Meade. Bradford had never shown an ounce of remorse for his affairs, whether it be a one night dalliance with some naive young model who was enticed by the fancy cars or the flash of cash, or his 20 year affair with the woman she had just spent the afternoon with. Daniel, on the other hand, had made one stupid mistake, one error of judgement and she could see it eating him from the inside, she knew the guilt he felt and the pain he had caused his marriage was consuming him. She continued to stare at him until she saw a perfect circle appear on the knee of his blue jeans, darkening the material with its moisture. Her heart broke as she saw the second silent tear hang from his nose.

Getting up hurriedly and dumping her bag on the ground, she sat next to Daniel and instantly wrapped an arm around his shoulders, bringing his head to her chest and rocking him as she had done when he was a child. After a couple of seconds he pulled his head back, squeezing the bridge of his nose and wiping the wetness from his eyes. "No." He shook his head, "I'm done with the pitying, I'm done with the tears."

Claire smiled sweetly and cupped his face. "No you're not, but you will be." She kissed his forehead.

"I'm so sorry Mom."

She nodded. "I know."

"How do I make this right?" He asked quietly, eyes shining.

She didn't have answers for him, at least not the ones he wanted to hear. Wilhelmina was the most strong willed person she knew. Once she had made up her mind about something, there was little to nothing that could be done to change it. "Come home." She offered instead.

"I am home." His voice was broken.

Claire's heart ached for her son, she wished life was like the stories she read him as a baby, or like the bubble-gum movies he and Alex had watched on repeat as children; that the bad things always found a way to sort themselves out, the good guy always got the girl and everyone got their happy ending. "When it's over..."

His eyebrows shot up, a desperate expression on his face. "IF it ends..." She corrected herself for his benefit. "You can come home. I'll always be your Mother, Daniel, and I know you're sorry for what you did."

He nodded again, he tried to avert his attention from the love he was receiving from his Mother, he felt guilty for accepting it, like he wasn't worthy. He screwed his face up as he recalled something she said earlier. "Why were you out of the office, don't you usually have a meeting with Wilhelmina on Mondays?"

"I had someone I had to see." She told him nervously, anxious for him not to push it. She was a crappy liar when she was on the wagon.

"Who?"

"An old...acquaintance." She told him, not lying.

Fey had warned her not to tell anyone, the implications of her return would be catastrophic, she was here to help Amanda, but she could never know of it. Claire had been promised by her old adversary that if she helped her to reach her child, helped her get through to her, then Fey would help her deal with the aftermath of Daniel's infidelity with her daughter. She had been vague, but Claire knew the self-absorbed, malicious diva would never have come out of hiding if she didn't have a damn good idea what she was doing.

Daniel's eyes were boring into the side of her head as he scrutinised her, unable to read her but knowing something was wrong. He could usually read his mother like a book and he was grateful for the distraction from his own problems.

Ever since Fey had revealed herself to her on Friday night, Claire felt the knowledge of her existence boiling up inside her like a pressure cooker. Try as she might, she couldn't carry this burden alone. She was in such a state of shock by the return of her husband's mistress that she was blinded, she had no way of knowing if she was being played. She needed someone to tell her what to do with the information, and in truth she needed someone else to see her so she knew she wasn't going senile.

She turned her body in her seat and grasped Daniel's hands in hers, taking a deep breath and swallowing it. "Daniel..." She began.

"This is why you blew off our meeting?" The irate voice shattered the suffocating atmosphere in the room.

Claire ripped her hands from Daniel and both heads whipped towards the door to meet Wilhelmina's angry eyes.

"Wilhelmina..." Claire started. She was cut off by Wilhelmina.

"At the very least I thought you were a professional. This wasn't just some run of the mill Hot-Flash meeting; you knew I needed to talk to you about coordinating that God awful retreat. Instead you're here...I thought you were on my side?"

Claire stood from the couch. "Can this stop being about sides?" She snapped. "I am well aware that Daniel is the one in the wrong; but he is my son, I will not freeze him out." She made her way to the door of the apartment, stopping next to Wilhelmina. "I'm sorry about the meeting, can we reschedule?"

Wilhelmina didn't look at her, her eyes lingering on the back of her husband's head, but gave a curt nod to Claire in response. Claire looked from Wilhelmina to Daniel, and back again; shaking her head sadly, she left.

_Oh it tears me up_

_I try to hold on, but it hurts too much_

_I try to forgive, but it's not enough_

_To make it all okay_

When he heard the click of the door closing he raised his eyes to Wilhelmina. She tried to block the part of her that hurt for him when she saw his red-rimmed eyes; tried to feel jubilant that he was in pain, albeit not as much as her, he wasn't the one who was betrayed. She opened her mouth to speak, unsure of what she was going to say. When she saw his eyebrows twitch up, hopefully, she swallowed down whatever sentiment threatened to fall from her lips. "Betty was looking for you." Was all she said, solemnly before retreating down the hall to her bedroom.

Daniel watched her go with a heavy weight pressing down on his chest. He hauled himself from the couch and balled up the sheets he was sitting on, he walked to the hallway closet and stored the duvet away before tossing the sheets in for dry cleaning. He walked aimlessly around the apartment, torturing himself by replaying memories of the times spent between the walls when they were content. He dimly registered that he should call Betty. Walking into the kitchen, he picked up the phone, he was about to punch in the number when the sound of voices stopped him. He quickly pressed the mute button and held the phone close to his ear.

"How's it going down there?"

"Well the staff down here couldn't so much as organise a game of Tiddlywinks, but I'm on top of it. How are things in the house of horrors?"

"I don't know how much longer I can take it." His wife's voice was uncharacteristically soft.

"I'll be back before you know it." Marc answered, equally gentle.

He heard a deep sigh echo down the phone. "I just want this over with, I want the divorce finalised so I can get him out of my life." Daniel felt his heart break at the conviction with which she spoke.

"He'll never be out Willie, you'll always have a history; good and bad. Plus, 25% is still a major share, he'll be in the offices all the time."

"I don't care, I can switch off in there, I can separate from it. It's when I'm home, in the split seconds where I forget what's happened and I almost call for him, smile at him; or even just forget to hate him."

"You don't hate him Willie, you know you don't. That's why I hate him for you." His voice brightened as he tried to cheer his friend. "It is the job of the friend-slash-former assistant to unreservedly hate those who wrong you greatly, no questions asked. It's all just evil looks and easily thrown insults, it's true, I looked it up."

On the other end of the line, there was silence as Marc laughed softly at his own joke. After a couple of seconds Marc spoke again. "Willie?" His voice had shifted to worried.

Daniel squeezed his eyes closed in pain when he heard the loud sniff coming down the phone, the voice which followed it sounded alien to him, he had never heard her speak with such sadness in her tone. "Help me hate him Marc...I need to stop lo..."

Daniel slammed the phone down, unwilling to here the rest of the sentence. He stalked to the fridge and wrenched it open, his eyes scanning the contents but seeing nothing, he slammed it closed again. He felt his guilt lessen and his shame at the pain he had caused was dissipating, he was physically exhausted at feeling both these emotions every second of the day. He felt them slowly being replaced with anger.

Anger that she was unwilling to work through their problems; anger that she knew it was only one stupid mistake but wouldn't even let him explain. He felt anger that he was shouldering all the blame for the demise of their marriage, granted he was the one who put the final nail in the coffin by cheating, but things had been far from rosy for a long time, and a lot of that was her doing. Most of all he was angry that he had just heard her say she wanted to hate him, she wanted to stop loving him. If she still loved him then surely she would want to fight for what they had, instead of throwing it away when things get bad.

It was time everything was laid on the line.

_You can't play on broken strings,_

_You can't feel anything, that your heart don't want to feel_

_I can't tell you something that aint real_

_Oh the truth hurts, and lies worse_

_I cannot give anymore,_

_When I love you a little less than before_

He marched from the kitchen and into the lounge; Swinging open the double doors he started to walk to the bedrooms, just as he entered the corridor Wilhelmina stepped out of her room. They stopped at opposite ends and regarded each other, she was sporting the same redness in her eyes to match his. Unable to withstand another barrage of "I'm sorrys" and "I love yous" she dipped her head and moved to pass him. Just as they were level, Daniel's hand shot out to grab her by the wrist, stopping her.

"Let me go." She didn't even look at him.

His grip tightened. "I said, let me go." Her voice was stronger, teeth clenched.

He tugged on the wrist, forcing her close to him, face to face. "You brought us here too." His voice was low, ominous and his lips were curled in a sneer.

She tried to rip her arm away but he held tight, pushing his face further into hers. "Do you think I would have even looked at someone else if I wasn't being treated as an afterthought by my own wife? You might as well have had my manhood mounted on the wall with your other prize kills."

She refused to answer him, afraid the rage she felt boiling in her would send her over the edge and she would do something to him she would regret.

He kept pushing her, needing some kind of reaction from her. "I know I've been an asshole, I'm willing to take responsibility for what I did, are you? You never missed an opportunity to let the outside world know I was punching above my weight. You never told them what went on in here though did you? How I was the one that held you together, I was the one who was here when you lost your children. I was there when we found out William wasn't yours, I was the one who picked up the pieces when Nico betrayed you. No, you were happy to let everyone believe I was nothing more than a convenient lap dog, to be wheeled out as and when required."

Her eyes narrowed at him and the anger she was trying so hard to suppress burst from her like a torrent. "So I should roll over and beg you for forgiveness, is that how it works? Better yet, how about every time we fight or you feel insecure I bring you home a little tramp you can screw just so you can feel more like a man." She ripped her arm from his hold but kept close to him. "Yes you were there for me when William and Nico left; yes you supported me when I thought I was losing it; because THAT'S WHAT HUSBANDS DO! Am I supposed to let your little dalliance with Amanda work as some sort of payment for you being a previously good husband? Is that what you want, a reward scheme of whores? 'Oh Daniel's been a good boy, I wonder if he'd like a red-head this time?'" She mocked him.

She pushed him away from her and he stumbled, hitting the wall. When she was nearly out of view he called after her. "You pushed me to it!"

She stopped, wiping the distraught look from her face before she turned back to face him. That had been the one thing she had been afraid he would throw at her; that the blame would land at her feet. "You son-of-a-bitch." She whispered.

He felt a surge of adrenaline pumping through him; he wasn't about to back down and take all the blame yet again. "Come on Willie, what did you think would happen if you kept treating me like you did in public? In here...in here we were as close to perfect as the two of us were likely to get, but out there..."

"OUT THERE!" She screamed at him. "Out there, I'm Wilhelmina Slater; icon, fashionista and above all, unfeeling bitch! It's the act I perfected flawlessly throughout the years and you fucking know that. In here I was your wife, you had the real me Daniel and don't you dare try and tell me otherwise." Her voice ended on a growl.

"I've spent the last god knows how long feeling like a passenger in my own marriage...I felt..."

She walked up to him and pushed his shoulder roughly. "You want to talk feelings? You wanna know how I felt everything stop when I saw you in OUR bed with..._her_ wrapped around you? You wanna know how the tiny bit of my heart, you somehow managed to thaw, splintered when I saw your hands on someone else? In fact, you wanna know that since that day I have felt absolutely nothing, I'm numb Daniel, whatever small flicker of humanity you managed to ignite four years ago, burned out the minute I saw my marriage end in front of my eyes."

"I wasn't the only one who ended this marriage!" Her words pierced him like a bullet but he refused to back down.

"No you're right, you weren't, Amanda was too." She smirked. "You know, a small part of me was terrified that while I was at the office that day..." She trailed off, shaking her head.

"What?" He snapped.

His tone irritated her and she looked back into his eyes. "I thought you'd screw that model." She finished, trying to walk away again.

"That was the plan." He whispered, cruelly and when she looked back at him he was wearing a look she'd never seen on him before but she recognised it as the one she used to wear when she knew she had her enemies on their knees.

She didn't think she'd ever felt tears spring to her eyes so quickly in her life. She fought them back. "What?" She was barely audible.

Daniel was still looking at her with that damned satisfied look on his face, watching her crumble. "You heard me."

"You_planned_ to cheat on me?"

The inflection of her words brought home what he had just said to her. He had basically just said he had premeditated the end of their marriage. "No...I just, I mean..." He was losing his bravado.

"So what? She wasn't available, didn't fall for your irresistible charms? So you thought you'd bring a sure thing up here instead and wait for me to walk in on you?"

"Amanda was the one who talked sense into me; she was trying to stop me doing something I would regret."

Wilhelmina laughed. "Well she did a bang up job didn't she? Bang, being the operative word. What did you think would happen when I caught you..?"

"You weren't supposed to. You told me you'd be at the office all night."

She brought her hands up to lie flat, crossed over her heart. "Oh I'm sorry Daniel, did the fact that I'm actually good at my job come between you and Amanda? You should have left a sock on the doorknob so I knew not to intrude. And anyway, who are you kidding, you wanted to get caught!"

He shook his head. "Don't be ridiculous."

"Really? You bring her here, to our home, in our bed and you're telling me that..."

"I wanted to have the power for once!" He shouted.

She screwed her face up at him. "What the hell are you talking about?"

He slowly walked towards her, looking straight in her eyes so he could clearly take in every emotion that would cross her face when he spoke. "You were never supposed to find out. I wanted the power to hurt you. I wanted to know that through the years, no matter how you belittled me, emasculated me...I could turn round to you and hurt you with four little words: 'I cheated on you.' I could play that card close to my chest for years, but I would always have the power to hurt you when you hurt me."

He didn't have time to see any reaction flicker over her eyes; his head was violently pushed aside when her fist connected with his cheekbone. "How can you possibly say you love me and then tell me that?" There was no fight left in her voice, his admission had drained her.

"I do love you." His voice had equally lost its conviction. "More than you know, I just needed...something. I couldn't keep playing second fiddle Willie."

He reached out to touch her cheek and she slapped his hand away. Walking back down the hall and opening the door to her bedroom. "You know the funny thing?" She whispered, "If I had come home to find you with that model, if it had been anyone you didn't have a history with...I might have been able to get past it." She closed the door softly behind her.

He stared at the closed door as if by staring hard enough he would see through it. He hadn't meant to say those things, but there was some truth in his words. Although the guilt would have eaten him up, a small part of him would always have relished holding that secret, getting one over on his always superior wife, even if only he knew. He hated adding to her pain but the anger felt good when he released it, it proved to him he was still alive. As twisted as it sounded, he wanted to keep her angry too, he needed to keep the passion alive in her, to stop her becoming unfeeling and numb as she had said. If the fight was there it meant he still had a chance, she still felt _something._

He walked back through the double doors and into the lounge, Hudson was lolling on the couch, his head buried deep inside Wilhelmina's purse. "Can't you chew slippers like normal dogs?" He asked allowed, wearily, pulling the dog's head out the bag. As the happy face of the puppy appeared, something shining inside the purse caught Daniel's eye and he felt the anger rise to the surface again.

_Oh what are we doing_

_We are turning into dust_

_Playing house in the ruins of ours_.

Meanwhile, Wilhelmina was studying her reflection in the mirror of her en-suite bathroom. Her hands resting on the sink as she tried to associate the image of the woman staring back at her to the woman she had been. She didn't recognise herself, no-one ever had the ability to break her before; when did she become weak? When had she turned into this person who could be taken for a fool? That's exactly how she felt; foolish. She knew how many enemies she had out there, and she knew they would all be laughing it up at her expense.

She was about to turn the faucet to splash cold water on her face when the door to the bathroom crashed open. "What the hell are these?" Daniel shouted from the threshold, holding the shining objects between his thumb and index finger.

"Get out Daniel."

"Answer me!"

She turned round at the sink, throwing down the flannel she had lifted. "You know damn fine what they are, it's my rings."

"And they were in your purse because?"

She scoffed at him, "Just get out."

"Put them on."

She narrowed her eyes. "Excuse me?"

"I said put them on."

"I will not!"

He took a step in the room and grabbed her left hand roughly. "Until those goddamn papers are signed you are still my wife, so put the fucking things on!"

"Daniel, you're being crazy!" She tried to twist the hand away as he tried to force the rings over her finger. "Daniel, stop it! You're hurting me you jackass!"

He paid her no heed as he shoved the rings back on her finger, not caring about the tight grip he had on her wrist or the angry red lines on her finger from where the precious metal had scratched it with his forceful attempts.

Once the rings were on he stepped back, she instantly brought her hand up to slap him across the cheek, the resulting sting made more painful as she hit the spot where she had punched him in the hall. "I hate you!"

"You don't." He was calm, matter-of-fact.

She slapped him again. "Fight back!"

He stayed standing close to her, but kept his head turned to the side, staring resolutely ahead. Her hand came up to beat his chest. "I said fight back!" She was getting hysterical, didn't know if she was going to burst into fits of tears or beat him to death where he stood, she just knew that the tension that had been building in the apartment since he returned was seeking release somehow. As she raised her hand, yet again, to slap him; he caught her arm inches from his face and finally turned to look at her.

His eyes had darkened and his jaw was tight, her own eyes seemed to be alight with fire as the bore into his. Her clenched teeth just barely visible through her slightly parted lips. The only sound in the room came from the thumping of their hearts and the deep angry breaths coming from them. If he hadn't been watching her so intently, he would have missed it; but he didn't. It was barely there, almost imperceptible, but for a fraction of a second, her eyes dipped from his and glanced at his lips.

He took it as his green light and instantly crashed his lips on hers urgently; the force of the kiss bringing moans from them both as he backed her up against the sink. Her head began squirming, trying to get away from his invading lips. He kept tight to her, kissing her with more need than he ever had. She somehow managed to whip her head to the side; this didn't deter him as he bit into the soft flesh at the side of her neck. He felt her hands on his chest and she pushed him away, again their eyes returned to stare in each others. He moved his hands down to his sides, saying nothing.

The next move was all hers, he saw her internal battle. Suddenly her hand came up, he flinched, expecting another slap; it never came. She grabbed a fistful of black cotton, at the neck of the T-Shirt he wore and dragged him back to her, her lips working over his with fervour.

His hands held her hips tightly, pushing himself against her; she was rising up from her position against the porcelain, trying to increase the pressure of their bodies. She released the collar of his T-Shirt and her hands went to the hem of the garment, pulling it up hastily. Daniel stepped back, reluctantly breaking contact as she pulled it over his head and tossed it from sight. He held no such restraint in properly removing her clothing, his nimble fingers quickly found the opening between two buttons in her blouse and he tugged it, ripping it in one move. One hand returning to hold her hip, the other went to cup her breast through her bra, pinching her through the fabric.

Her kiss deepened as she moaned at the feeling, her hands moved deftly over the fastenings of his jeans. She pushed his jeans and boxers over his ass, releasing him and wrapping a hand around his base. Daniel returned both hands to her hips and lifted her, placing her on the edge of the vanity unit. As she held him tightly around his member, he roughly moved her skirt up her thighs and with two fingers, ripped through her underwear. She pulled on him and he groaned loudly as he moved closer, she positioned him and in one thrust he was inside her.

His head slumped forward onto her shoulder as his body started moving against hers with wild abandon. This wasn't how he wanted it, he wanted it slow; he wanted to show her body the attention it deserved. But he knew that's not what she wanted, and right now there was no way his body would comply anyway. It was out of his control, his body simply reacting to the feel of being inside her again. He felt her nails digging into his neck and it only increased the force of his thrusts, he felt her start to tighten around him and move her body up to meet his movements.

He moved his head up from her shoulder, she was biting her lip to stop her crying out; and he knew why. He needed to hear the one thing she was desperately trying to stop herself from screaming. "Willie, say my name." He said, breathless as he rocked into her. In response she only bit down harder on her lip. Using all his self control he stopped moving and withdrew almost completely.

"Say it." He growled.

"Not a chance." Her voice was low, challenging him to stop.

Without warning he slammed back inside her, her back arching as she involuntarily cried his name. He smirked as she narrowed her eyes at him for his dirty trick and she dug her nails even more forcefully as his lips returned to hers. Seeking revenge, she pulled his lip into her mouth and bit down until she tasted the metallic tang. At this point the pain only added to his pleasure and he moved harder against her, slipping his hands under her ass and lifting her from the surface. She was supported only by him as he pulled her against him in time with his motions. Her ankles locked behind him as her body went stiff in his arms, her walls pulling him deeper inside as they clenched. She buried her head against him as her climax hit, determined not to let his name escape her lips again. As her body shook against his, he pulled her to him once more, tight as he could as he thrust one last time. His body instantly trembling as his orgasm overcame him, shouting her name freely.

As their bodies calmed, he leaned her back against the unit and let his weight fall on her, she sat stock straight, supporting him. Daniel brought his forehead to rest against Wilhelmina's and swallowed great gulps of air to regain normal breathing. His hands came up from her hips to cup her face. "Please Willie." He whispered, keeping his eyes closed, "Please give us another chance."

Daniel felt her hands come to lie on top of his, he lifted his head to look at her when he felt her pulling his hands away from her skin. The anger was gone from her eyes, the fight had left them both; but the veil of hurt had descended behind those beautiful eyes again. "I can't." As she whispered to him, he felt himself break a little more when a single tear snaked down her cheek. He lifted his thumb to brush it away; the intimate gesture acted as a catalyst and she at once began pushing him away. Her hands on his pectorals, she shoved him.

She jumped down from her position and hastily pulled her skirt from around her hips, her useless blouse still hanging loosely on her frame. Daniel silently pulled his jeans back up and retrieved his T-Shirt from the floor. Willie stood, looking at the floor; he tried once more to elicit a reaction, he reached a hand out to her face but she rejected it. Defeated, Daniel let his hand drop by his side. Wilhelmina didn't look up until she heard the click of the bathroom door behind him.

_Running back through the fire_

_When there's nothing left to save_

_It's like chasing the very last train_

_when it's too late_

Amanda was alone, not just physically; she felt it even when she was in a room full of people. Marc was in Southern California, but even when he was here and showed her rare moments of support she knew it was purely because that's what he thought friends should do, not because he felt sorry for her. There was no question he would be on Wilhelmina's side; hell, _she_would be on her side too. It wasn't about Wilhelmina versus her, it was about who had been wronged.

As for Betty, she knew that Betty was too good a friend and person to say what she really thought of her, but she could see it in the young girl's eyes when she spoke. Betty was good, Betty was moral; infidelity was not. She could say that she was there to support her, that she would be there for her and Amanda appreciated it because she knew how hard it was for her friend, but she knew that, behind those red frames. the big brown eyes were judging her.

Alone with her thoughts was a perilous scenario for Amanda, with no one to rein her in, her mind often led her to dangerous territory. Like both Daniel and Wilhelmina, she couldn't help but replay the events of that night. How she had thwarted Daniel's attempt at seeking comfort in the young model, only to end up in her place. She could still remember the flipping sensation in her stomach that she got when she had realised what was going to happen. She could still hear the conflicting thoughts in her head. She could remember the empty, hollow feeling she felt when Daniel wouldn't look at her while they made love in his marital bed. Most of all, she could still remember Wilhelmina's eyes.

What she saw in the woman's face would haunt her throughout the rest of her days. How someone's eyes could look so full of anger and fire, yet appear empty at the same time, was chilling to her. She couldn't keep her thoughts on Wilhelmina for a sustained period without the guilt, shame and fear threatening to engulf her.

When she thought of Daniel, she felt the fear lessen, the guilt and shame where still there but she felt warmer somehow when he invaded her thoughts. What she had told Betty was true, she wasn't in love with him; but she knew there would always be somewhere in her heart that belonged to him. There was a time, long ago, when she believed she _had_loved him and that he could be her future.

He could have gone home that night with the model, he could have had anyone in that bar she followed him to; but he ended up with her. Was it happenstance? Was it just convenient coincidence? Or was it their past? Was there something there that they had been on the verge of exploring? He knew everything inside that pre-nup, he knew exactly what he stood to lose, but he had still taken her into his arms and bed.

It might not be love, but was it something?

_Oh it tears me up_

_I try to hold on, but it hurts too much_

_I try to forgive, but it's not enough_

_To make it all okay_

Willie had waited until she heard the running water coming from the guest bathroom. As soon as she was sure he was under the stream she hurried from her cocoon inside her bedroom, pulling on fresh clothes and rushing from the apartment. She needed to be anywhere but there, of course there was only one place she would end up.

As her heels clicked on the tile beneath her, she tried to block out the memories of earlier that evening, coupled with the ones of her and Daniel and the times they shared in these offices; good and bad. She stood at the end of the tube and stared into Daniel office, almost wishing for the days when they were at each other's throats, vying for control. She would happily go back to that time to for-go what had become of them.

Her eyes caught a shift of movement to the side of her, whipping around she saw the dim outline of a figure in her office. The lights were off but the dim glow from the city below cast a hazy light into the room and she could clearly see it was occupied. She silently made her way across the office, her fear at an intruder giving way as she saw the familiar silhouette of Claire in front of the curtain; she stopped at the door, which was slightly ajar.

"A little late for you is it not?" Her voice in the silent office made the older woman jump.

Claire turned to her, hand pressed to her chest in fright. "Wilhelmina." She exclaimed, looking worried at her sudden presence in the office.

Wilhelmina shook her head. "I knew it; I knew when I caught you with Daniel today that you'd well and truly moved to his camp. Is that why you're here? Snooping? Looking for some way to help your darling child keep daddy's company from me?"

"No you..."

Willie shrugged, cutting her off. "Look all you want, you'll find nothing. I'm sorry your afternoon of scheming with your little boy was wasted." She smirked, "At least now you can stop pretending to give a damn about my side."

Claire took a step towards her. "Wilhelmina you don't understand. I wasn't with Daniel this afternoon, I arrived at yours only minutes before you did. I was...I had to meet with someone."

"Daniel's lawyer?" She mocked, quirking her eyebrow.

Claire's eyes shifted to her right, she quickly returned her gaze to Wilhelmina to stop her from doing the same. "I'm not taking sides here, believe me. I just had to..."

"Meet someone, yes you said." Wilhelmina drawled, bored. "I don't have time for your little lies Claire, I know exactly whose team you're on."

"She's not lying." A voice she thought she would never hear again stopped any further thoughts of Claire or Daniel entering her head.

She heard the slow click of stilettos to her right, behind the curtain Claire stood in front of. Wilhelmina stared straight at Claire, her eyes wide, shaking her head slowly; asking to be told she wasn't hearing who she thought she could hear. Claire stared back, just as hard and nodded her head in response to the silent question.

As the sound of heels stopped, Wilhelmina felt a presence beside her. Swallowing the knot in her throat she turned around slowly and pulled back the curtain in one swift tug; and found herself looking into eyes of a dead woman.

"Hello Willie dear."

_You can't play on broken strings,_

_You can't feel anything, that your heart don't want to feel_

_I can't tell you something that ain't real_

_Oh the truth hurts, and lies worse_

_I cannot give anymore,_

_When I love you a little less than before_


	9. Illegal

**Illegal**

_Who would have thought  
>That you could hurt me<br>The way you've done it?  
>So deliberate, so determined<em>

She blinked a few times, hoping the person standing right before her eyes would vanish in a dusty cloud, like a drunken dream. But she didn't, Fey was still there, looking straight back at her, wearing a horrible sneer that she had long forgotten; seeing it back on the face that had haunted her first years made her stomach turn in a mixture of fear and incredulity.

"Wilhelmina, sit down," Claire said, springing forward to support the woman, but she stretched her arm out, keeping her at arm's length. "Wilhelmina, let me explain."

"Explain what!" she hissed. "I can't believe the lengths you would go to, to save you son's ass! But even hiring a lookalike? That's beyond unexpected."

"Wilhelmina, you don't understand," Claire tried again, but Wilhelmina took a step back, shifting her gaze between the two older women standing side by side. "It's not what you-"

"What I think is you thought a glorious comeback by Fey Sommers, with some sort of deep, twisted, dark secret about my life might help your son's cause, but I'm sorry to disappoint you, I don't have any more dark secrets! And if you were planning on making something up, well I suggest you get ready because you'll be next in line for the biggest lawsuit this country has ever seen!"

"Wilhelmina, stop the hysteria now."

This came from the short, petite woman who was looking at her exactly like Fey had always done, whenever she would throw one of her tantrums. If that was a lookalike, she had done her homework damn good.

"Oh yeah, because I'm going to listen to some circus freak who loves to play dress up. Do me a favor, and drop the act. I'm not a fool."

"You are," Fey exclaimed. "A gigantic one."

Claire simply looked as the two exchanged fierce looks, and remembered suddenly what it was like during the last years Fey had been at Mode, with Wilhelmina slowly coming into her own and starting to stand up against her longtime mentor. Scenes like this one she was assessing right now weren't a rare sight, for the Mode employees, and she, as an outsider, always found them enjoyable; probably due to her loathing towards both women. She would be lying if she'd said she hadn't wished they would end up killing each other during one of their famous face-offs.

Wilhelmina narrowed her eyes, squaring the woman down from head to toe. "I have to say you play the part magnificently, bravo. Next time I need my own Fey Sommers to boss me around I'll just give you a call." With one last disdainful look at Claire she turned around and started to walk away.

"We were in my office, this one time in December." That alone was enough to make her stop on her tracks. "It was shortly after Bradford had told Alex he would be the Editor in Chief, at Hudson. You were complaining at how nepotistic it was of him, and you told me I could never do something like that."

Wilhelmina turned slowly around, feeling her blood pressure increasing.

"Then I told you that yes, I could, and as a matter of fact I had. And I told you the new receptionist I'd just hired was none other than my own daughter." Fey paused, studying Wilhelmina briefly. "The same baby whose adoption contracts _you_had kindly handed to Tanen and his wife, and brought back to me all signed."

Wilhelmina swallowed, knowing she had to lean against something before her legs would fail her.

"The same woman whose life you are now trying to compromise," Fey concluded.

With that last statement, Wilhelmina felt the strength return to her body, the strength and the rage. "So, that's why you're here Fey? To defend your spawn? I'm not surprised. She's just like you. She likes to reach out to touch what is not hers to touch."

"Don't talk to me like that, Wilhelmina," Fey hissed, giving out the first hint of real emotion.

"Why not?" Wilhelmina exclaimed, taking a step forward as the courage invaded her. "It's true. Bradford wasn't yours. You were a delusional fool who thought someone like him could ever really leave his wife for them. And your daughter is almost as delusional as you were. Though at least she stopped short of showing off, like you did."

Fey closed the distance between them and, unexpectedly, raised her hand and when Wilhelmina felt the sting on her cheek she knew she had hit a nerve.

"Don't you dare," Fey hissed, lifting a finger. "You would be nothing without me."

"You know what; maybe I would have been better! Maybe I wouldn't have ever met Daniel, maybe I would have never witnessed him cheating on me with _your_fucking daughter, maybe I wouldn't be as cold and alone as I am now, had I not known you!"

Claire made a last attempt at reaching for Wilhelmina, but once again the woman pushed her away. "You stay out of it!" Wilhelmina said. "How long have you been playing secret best friends with her? Stupid me, I thought I could trust you. Lesson learned: Meades cannot be trusted. Nor can Sommers'."

"Wilhelmina, now shut the hell up and listen to me!" Fey exclaimed, the tone in her voice enough to positively silence Wilhelmina's hysteric crisis. "I'm not here to fight you, I'm here to help you, and if you keep your mouth closed for more than a minute I might be even able to explain myself to you, considering I've raised you as more of a child than I did Amanda."

This was not what Wilhelmina had wanted to hear. She knew it, of course, but she didn't want to be reminded of that. She'd prefer to keep raging against the woman and her daughter because she had settled in that niche, being mad at the world. Having to listen, to face the fact that _that_ was actually the closest thing to a mother she had had, was not part of that niche. That was unexplored territory. She wasn't yet ready to cherish the life of Fey Sommers, as much as she was to curse her name, and the person who was carrying it now.

Taking advantage of Wilhelmina's silence, Fey decided to go on. "I'm here to talk to Amanda. She was the only person who was supposed to know about me…Well her and Claire, because I needed someone to help me, someone who was into the situation but enough an outsider to see both sides."

"What's the purpose? You can talk to your daughter all you want; you can even read her a fairytale and tuck her in, for as much as I care. The situation is not going to change."

"Wilhelmina, this is different from other situations..."

"No, this is _not_different at all from any other married couple! My husband cheated on me, I'm filing for divorce. Stop thinking me and Daniel were some sort of power couple, because we were not. We were a normal couple, and I'm doing what is expected of me to do!"

"HA!" Claire and Fey exclaimed in unison, and Wilhelmina jumped.

"What the fuck is wrong with the two of you?" she said.

"You said it!" Claire exclaimed.

"Said what, for God's good grace?"

"You're doing what others are expecting you to do," Fey said, with a smirk. "Which means it's not what you want to do."

Wilhelmina bit her bottom lip. "Bullshit, you're clutching at straws," she snapped.

"Yeah right," Claire continued. "See, you're right about one thing, this is not different. Not different from what happened to me. I did what people expected me to do, close my eyes and pretend I didn't know anything and be a good wife." She paused, glancing briefly, uncomfortably at Fey. "And you're doing exactly the same, doing what people want you to do, because you're you, and no one wants Wilhelmina Slater to _close her eyes_. They want to see her fight and bare her teeth, and be the force of nature everyone is familiar with. Do that, Wilhelmina, but do it for the right reasons. Fight for your marriage. Fight for him."

The pressure of the women's eyes was too much to bear, for Wilhelmina. She took a few steps back, and then she turned around and stormed off, leaving the two former enemies, allies for the time being, alone in the semi dark room.

"That went better than I expected," Claire said.

"You don't know her, Claire," Fey said, looking at the spot Wilhelmina had just vacated. "That was not good at all."

_And since you have been gone  
>I bite my nails for days and hours<br>And question my own questions on and on_

"Surprise surprise!"

Marc held the door open wide, expecting Wilhelmina to be the first to greet him. He had decided to take the first flight back to New York, hearing the need in his friend's voice that afternoon. However, he just stared at an empty apartment. Well, empty wasn't the right word. The fire was on, the only light in the room, which meant someone had to be home, but no one was in sight.

He walked in hesitantly, closing the door behind him, careful to make as much noise as he could to avoid unpleasant surprises. He dropped his bags in the middle of the room and looked around, listening carefully for any sign of human presence. He heard the yapping coming from one of the bedrooms and smiled. At least the dog was still alive.

He opened the door that looked onto the corridor and walked slowly, stopping in front of Wilhelmina's door when he located the yapping. He knocked once and, not waiting for a reply, he opened the door.

"Who's your bestest friend in the world?" he said. However he stopped on his threshold, swallowing, when he saw Wilhelmina was not in her room. Instead, Daniel was on her bed, with Hudson jumping up and down on his chest. "What are you doing?"

"Blaming myself for all that's bad in the world?" he offered, not averting his eyes from the ceiling. "And randomly slapping myself and contemplating suicide. Overall a great day, thanks for asking."

"No, I meant here, what are you doing here, in Wilhelmina's room," Marc said, waving his arms around. "If she finds you in here she'll have you deported to Zimbabwe."

"Do they have pizza in Zimbabwe? If they do, I might just go there on my own."

"Funny," Marc deadpanned. "Now get out of here."

"This is my bedroom, Marc," Daniel pointed out, propping himself on his elbows. Hudson took that as an invite and he licked the man's face. Daniel grimaced, but couldn't help but smile as he wiped his face.

"Wrong answer, I'm sorry you lost your jackpot," Marc said, leaving the room. "Get your ass outside!" he yelled from the corridor. He reached his bags on the middle of the dining room and picked them up. When he turned around he saw Daniel emerging from the corridor, Hudson following him loyally. "You little sold soul." Daniel settled on the couch, and Hudson began barking again to be picked up and Daniel complied, resting the puppy on the pillow next to him, all under Marc's scrutinizing look. "Where's Wilhelmina, anyway? It's past 10 pm."

"Everyone keeps asking me her whereabouts. What part of _she hates me_don't you guys understand? I have no idea where she is."

"Did she have parties to attend, business stuff or anything else?" Marc insisted, ignoring what Daniel had just told.

"I don't know."

"Maybe she had a date."

"I don't know."

"Maybe she's not coming back tonight."

"I don't know."

"Maybe she's sleeping-"

"Alright, that's it," Daniel cut him off, raising his voice. "I'm not going to stand here and listen to you suggesting my wife is sleeping with someone else." He got up and on his way he stopped, feeling Marc's hand on his wrist, roughly pushing him back to look him in the face.

"Hurts, doesn't it?" Marc said. "Having to deal with the person you love in someone else's bed? In someone else's arms? Well, imagine witnessing it." He let go of Daniel, and turned his back on him, disappearing behind the corridor doors.

"Marc I-" he tried to say.

"Not interested," the boy exclaimed from his room's threshold. The next thing he could hear was the slamming of the guest room door.

"Guess it's back on the couch, tonight," Daniel whispered. Just as he was about to go back to Hudson, the entrance door opened up and he spun around, feeling the heat rise to his cheek when he saw Wilhelmina entering, her head dipped low.

"Hey," he said, and she looked up. She swallowed and nodded curtly. "Are you ok?" he asked, concerned at the worry on her face.

"I'll pretend you didn't just ask such a stupid question."

A loud noise of slamming doors was heard and Marc came running into the room. Without a word, he ran up to her and hugged her. "Willie, I was so worried."

"Marc. You're crushing my McQueen," Wilhelmina exclaimed, grabbing the man by the forearms and freeing herself from the grasp. "Welcome back."

Marc frowned. "What's wrong?"

"Will everyone stop asking that?" Wilhelmina yelled, the overreaction scaring both Marc and Daniel who didn't dare reply. "I'm going to bed," she said, finally, leaving the room.

Marc spun around, narrowing his eyes. "What did you do?" he asked Daniel.

"Nothing, Marc, I merely asked her if she was ok!"

Marc took a step forward, menacingly, but the result was everything but threatening. His movements didn't match the intentions, and over all he just looked like he was throwing a hissy fit.

"I don't believe you!" he exclaimed, high-pitched.

"Well, you better start believing in what I have to say because you know what? I'm not the one who's keeping secrets here! I've laid it all on the line, and see what I get in return? A whole bunch of nothing!"

"Oh, excuse me! I forgot you're here to be awarded Husband of the Year. Let me get your prize," he yelled, grabbing the nearest pillow and throwing it at Daniel, who caught it without much effort. "Why don't you just get out, Daniel?" Marc asked, taking deep breaths, calming down. "If there's the slightest hint of affection for that woman, just leave her alone."

"Marc, I lo-"

"Stop saying you love her!" Marc cut him off, shaking his head. "If you had loved her, if you had loved her so much, you wouldn't have done what you did. You wouldn't have felt the _need_. So don't say you love her, Daniel. The two of you rushed this thing, the marriage. You went out, had sex for ten months without anyone knowing and then suddenly you're in love and you want to be her man? That's not love, that's fear of being alone."

"You don't know what it was like, between me and her, you weren't-"

"There? Oh but I was. You said it yourself, remember? I was there through the whole process. I was there when you started playing sex buddies. I was there when you told her you were sick of being _just_that. I was there when you came out with it and I was there when you proposed, after only two years. I may not have been there physically, most of the time, but I was there when she would tell me about it, when she would call me because she had no idea what to do, because she was terrified of getting attached to you."

Daniel couldn't say a word, because Marc's train of words was so furiously fast he felt bombarded with all the information; information that he had known, of course, but that he had never paid attention to.

"Two years, Daniel," Marc continued, placing a hand on his hip. "Two years of _dating_is not even close to being enough for two people who have your history. It's not even damn close. And guess what, I was a fool, because I told her that you were good. I was the one who told her that she didn't have to be scared, that you were too good to hurt her, that you weren't trying to play and that, hell, if she was getting attached, she might as well give it a try. But now I hate myself for telling her to go ahead and trust you, because in the end you did just that. You hurt her, and she may not be strong enough to hate you right now, but I do Daniel, I hate you with every fiber of my body."

Marc closed his eyes and took a deep breath, straightening his jacket. When he opened his eyes again he looked at Daniel, awaiting his reaction.

"Are you done?" Daniel simply asked.

"For now."

"Good, because there are a couple of things I would love to tell you," Daniel started. "And let me start by saying that yes, you were there, most of the time. Yes, you pushed Wilhelmina towards me and yes, you told her she could trust me. So who are you more angry for? Wilhelmina, or yourself? Is it Wilhelmina's trust I've broken, or is it yours?"

Marc tried to chime in but Daniel lifted his hands, silencing him.

"Let me finish. Secondly, you are no one to tell me what I feel or _felt_for my wife. You are nobody to judge the way we handled our relationship, and you are not the one who has the right to say who loved who. Because you might have been there most of the time, Marc, but you weren't _always_there. It was Wilhelmina and I, we lived this relationship from day one, we played all our cards and we did it well. We argued, and we fought like hell, but in the end we compromised. You don't have the right to say we rushed things, because you are not me, or her, for that matter. And finally," Daniel said, emphasizing the word with a step forward. "Finally, one more thing. I don't care if you hate me. I hate myself, even, I can't blame you. But don't you_ever, ever, ever_say that it's our _history_that brought us here. It's not. Our _history_was erased the same day we decided to live together, the day I asked her to marry me, the day we did get married. Every day we spent together would, at the same time, erase every day we spent _hurting_each other. What you mean is our _past,_because nowadays our _history_is a whole different thing."

"Are _you_done?"

They both spun around, hearing Wilhelmina's voice. She was on the threshold, looking at the two of them like a mother who was about to scold her two children. Hudson, who had been quietly watching the match been played in front of his eyes with curiosity, upon seeing Wilhelmina jumped off the couch, rolling a little before getting back on his legs. He waddled happily towards Wilhelmina, yapping and going round her feet, trying to catch her attention.

"Marc, go back to your room," she ordered. Marc obeyed without another word, walking past her. He tried to whisper something, on his way, but she shook her head he left the two of them alone.

"Willie, we need to talk about what-"

"No."

She looked him up and down one last time before turning her back on him and walking back to her room, Hudson following her enthusiastically.

_So tell me now, tell me now  
>Why you're so far away<br>When I'm still so close_

Betty and Daniel walked side by side down the road: they'd met at the same bar they always went to whenever she was in town, had breakfast and talked of many things but the hot topic of Daniel's divorce. She was trying to give him a break, knowing that reminiscing about his crumbling marriage wouldn't do him any good. However, as they kept walking side by side, and the discussion had run dry, Betty found herself unable to think of anything else.

"Go ahead," he said. "Ask me. I know you want to ask."

Betty cleared her throat. "It's just, I met Wilhelmina yesterday, and she told me you moved back into the apartment? Daniel, is that really a good idea? I mean, you living with your ex wife?"

"Wife," he pointed out. "Technically we're still husband and wife, as much as you people seem to forget that. And _people_includes my wife, too. Anyway no, it's not a good idea. It's possibly the worst idea I could have had."

Betty tilted her head, frowning.

"We had sex," he blurted out.

Betty stopped dead on her tracks, rolling her head back and sighing deeply, passing a hand over her eyes. "Daniel," she whispered, shaking her head. "How did that happen?" she asked, bewildered. "I remember Wilhelmina clearly from the other day, and no way would she have let you near her unless it was a life or death situation. Or rape. You didn't rape her, did you?"

"Oh my God Betty? Come on! You know me, I would never lift a finger to her!" he said, indignantly. They began walking again. "It was just…I don't know, we had a fight."

"Tell me something I don't know."

"A bad one. I said some things, awful things Betty. Many of which I didn't even mean. And even the ones I did mean were never supposed to be said out loud!" Before Betty could say anything, Daniel continued. "I know what you're going to say, I'm immature, childish and don't take responsibility for my words, but on the contrary, I'm taking every little bit of responsibility in this. I'm an ass."

Betty whistled.

"That's your way to say you don't agree with what I said?" Daniel asked.

"That was my way of saying that yes, I agree on you being an ass," the girl responded, monotone.

"Thank you."

"You're welcome," she said, unenthusiastically. "Where are we going?"

"Home."

"What do you mean home?" Betty asked, agitated. "I'm not entering that place, not with you anyway, I might risk losing my head."

"Trust me, she's past the anger phase, she's now fully proceeded to the second phase."

"Which would be?"

"Indifference."

They turned a corner and Betty sighed, asking herself how she couldn't realize earlier they were just a few blocks from the place. She should have known it. "Why are we going back? I thought you had stuff to work on, today?"

"I do, I have to talk to a few people, the first partial selection of candidates for the position of Creative Director. After everything that happened a lot of people gave up. Can't blame them, Wilhelmina was not your ideal employer, before this mess, you can imagine how people can be scared now."

"Yeah. I wouldn't accept that job, not even in a billion years."

"My oh my, you are so encouraging today."

On the threshold of the big Victorian building, the concierge opened the big entrance door for them, greeting Daniel with a nod. Daniel smiled and Betty followed him inside. The ride up the floor was silent, but not awkward. Maybe they both knew some things were to be said, but in due time, without hurry. The elevator doors opened and they saw the landing was crowded.

"What's going on?" Daniel asked, eyeing the row of people, man and women, of all ages, that came to a halt just in front of their apartment. The door was opened, and his heart began to race. "What the hell-"

He quickened his pace, pushing everyone out of his way, and walked inside the apartment. He ran into the dining room and saw Wilhelmina and Marc, on one side of the big table, talking to the woman sitting opposite.

"What is going on here?" he asked, raising his voice.

Wilhelmina and Marc both turned their head to him. "We're auditioning," Marc intervened.

"Auditioning? For what?"

"Dog-sitter."

Daniel's eyes widened and he turned to see Betty walking in, looking round uncomfortably. "Oh, hi Wilhelmina," she said upon seeing the two people at the table. "Hi Marc!"

"What do you want?" Wilhelmina asked Daniel.

"You're auditioning for a dog-sitter? What happened to the old fashioned way?"

"You mean hiring a model that will please your taste?" she snapped.

The buzzing noise in the background stopped, and everyone in the corridor tiptoed to the door that looked on the dining room to sneak a peek of the imminent battle. Noticing that, Daniel shook his head and with a grimace he turned around. "Never mind, I'm just here to pick up a folder I forgot."

"How about your dignity?" Wilhelmina chimed in, exchanging an amused look with Marc, and eliciting a small chuckle from the other people.

Seeing Daniel's muscles tensing, Betty placed a hand on his arm and spun him around before he could say anything, leading him outside the room. Feeling the eyes burning through them, Betty ushered him outside the door and back across the landing, into the lift. As soon as the doors closed with a dinging sound, she looked at him.

"Are you ok?" she asked.

Daniel lifted his head and looked ahead, at the reflection on the metallic doors, straightening his jacket. "Yes. I deserve it."

_You don't even know the meaning of the words "I'm sorry"  
>You said you would love me until you died<br>And as far as I know you're still alive, baby  
>You don't even know the meaning of the words "I'm sorry"<br>I'm starting to believe it should be illegal to deceive a woman's heart_

That afternoon, after being sure Daniel would not throw himself off the window of his office, Betty allowed herself a walk. She needed to think, she needed to come out with something to do, because seeing Daniel in that downright horrible state was killing her as much as it was killing him. She knew he had made a mistake, but she also didn't think it was fair for him to blame himself alone.

Truth be told, her heart had ached for him, immensely, when she'd heard him say he had deserved Wilhelmina's treatment. It had to be true, on some level, but the bitter awareness she had heard in his voice had made her realize he was taking the fall, and he was taking it bad and by himself.

She wanted to do something, she just didn't know how.

Before she could realize it, she lifted her eyes from the sidewalk she'd been walking on and noticed the familiar neighborhood. She hadn't meant to come here, but she might as well make the best out of it. She entered the building and went up a few flights. On the fifth floor, she halted and went on across the landing, reaching the blue door she'd knocked on so many times.

So she did it again, one more time, and waited nervously. When the door opened and the blonde saw her standing on the threshold, her smile grew wider.

"Love the skirt," Amanda said, chuckling.

Betty looked down at the long, flowing red skirt, and narrowed her eyes. "What's wrong with it?"

"Nothing," Amanda said. "I said I love it."

"When you say you love my clothes, it usually means you'll take a picture and hang it on your wall of shame."

"Oh my god, how do you know about that?" Amanda asked, stepping aside to let her into the place.

Betty pointed to the wall immediately ahead of them, full of pictures, with a huge, red writing on the top: _Betty's wall of shame_. "It's not like you're exactly trying to hide it."

Amanda led her across the apartment, motioning to the couch as she sat down on the armchair. Betty was busy taking in the surroundings and just how much the apartment had changed since she'd been there the last time. Sure, you could see Amanda's lifestyle had changed, mainly thanks to the money her new job assured her. But Betty could feel that, deep inside, she was still the same girl she'd left two years ago.

Sitting down she smiled at Amanda. "So…How's it going?"

"Not dead yet," Amanda said, shrugging. "But I called a guy to have the door lock reinforced. I have this feeling Wilhelmina will creep up on me while I'm sleeping and stab me with a fork."

"A fork."

"Yeah, one of those big forks that Satan has, you know, down there in Hell," she said. Looking down, she added in a whisper: "Where she must've grown up."

"Oh, so you've moved on too."

"What do you mean?"

"Looks like everyone here is going through phases: Daniel is currently on phase number 4: at first he was sorry, then he was trying to convince her to get back together, then there's a peculiar phase three I don't want to mention. And now he's on phase four."

"And that would be?"

"Self loathing."

"Oh that was my phase one," Amanda said.

"I know. Which brings me to you: you are now on phase two, anger towards the only one who has the right to be actually angry."

"I'm not mad at Wilhelmina."

"Oh yes you are, I can hear it in your voice," Betty chimed in, lifting an eyebrow.

"I'm not _angry_. I'm just…I don't know, I can't help but ask myself whether I really do deserve all that she's doing to me. The whole cutting off my New York life was fine, at first, but now it's reaching a ridiculous stage."

"See? You're angry."

"That's not anger, that's righteous concern. For myself," she added quickly. "So, what did he tell you? Did he ask you about…anything in particular?"

Betty narrowed her eyes. "No, why? Is there something in particular he was supposed to ask?"

"No no," she said, too quickly for Betty's liking. The girl stood up and walked up to the table, starting to rearrange casually the papers spread on the surface. Betty studied her back, the wheels in her head turning quickly. "And what phase is Wilhelmina on?" Amanda asked, not looking at her.

Betty fell back against the cushion and sighed. "Abuse."

"And what was her excuse for the past forty years?" Amanda asked, glancing at Betty.

Betty opened her mouth, but then she shook her head and laughed. Amanda followed her, but she only did it because somehow she had to disguise the fact that she was already oh phase three.

Asking herself whether the cheating husband would ever get over his wife and fall in love with the one night stand.

_I tried so hard to be attentive  
>To all you wanted<br>Always supportive, always patient  
>What did I do wrong?<br>I'm wondering for days and hours  
>It's clear, it isn't here where you belong<em>

As soon as Betty had left the Meade building, earlier in the afternoon, his assistant had informed him. Without her, he had the chance to go back home and spent the rest of the day on the couch, drinking, watching stupid shows on TV and hating himself for the monumental jerk he was.

At least, those were his plans, but those plans were clearly not going to happen, because when he closed the door behind him he heard her voice from the kitchen. He'd thought, hoped maybe, that after the stupid auditions she would be at work. He knew he should have checked, first.

Walking hesitantly into the room, he saw her standing with her back to him, talking on the phone. He decided to let her finish the phone call and stood motionless on the spot, leaning against the big marble counter.

As soon as she snapped the phone shut he cleared his throat, making his presence known. She turned around and seemed surprised to see him, but she didn't speak. She just looked at him and then placed her phone on the counter before heading off.

"Wilhelmina," he called after her with a tired voice. "Please, wait. We need to talk about this."

She stopped and opened her arms. "What makes you think we're on speaking terms?"

"Oh yeah right, but we're on fucking terms?" he blurted out, regretting the words as soon as they came out. He passed a hand over his eyes, sighing. "I didn't mean that, I'm sorry."

"Oh no, you meant that alright," Wilhelmina snapped, bitterly. "What do you want me to say? You're not that stupid, you must know what I'm thinking already."

"That it was a mistake and blah blah blah," he said, rolling his eyes. "What I want you to tell me is what you _really_think."

Wilhelmina tilted her head. "You know what? Maybe I just needed a pick me up. Maybe I just needed _something_to take my mind off things, and you just happened to be there. Actually, it's safe to say it could have been anyone and it wouldn't have made a difference."

"But it was not anyone, it was me," he said, shoving aside the hurt that her words were causing him. "You said my name."

Wilhelmina shrugged. "Force of habit."

"He slammed a hand on the counter, in anger. "What the fuck, no!" he yelled. She jumped back, scared at the reaction. When he looked up and saw the fear in her eyes, he frowned. "Oh my God. You're scared of me."

Wilhelmina swallowed. "No," she said, but it wasn't convincing, not even to her own ears.

"I scared you, yesterday, didn't I?" he asked, feeling ashamed of his own actions of the day before, of the absolute craziness and lack of self-control. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to…I would never hurt you."

Subconsciously she looked down at the finger where she was still bearing the scratches due to his trying to force the ring on it. He followed her gaze and noticed the tiny wounds.

"I'm sorry," he repeated.

"Daniel!" she exclaimed, suddenly. "Stop it! Stop saying you're sorry! If I hear it one more time I swear I'll not be held responsible for my actions. I get it, you're sorry."

"What happened was-"

"Nothing but what brought us here, in this mess of a marriage in the first place," she cut him off. "I fuck you because I need a distraction; you fuck me because you need validation for your pathetic excuse of a life. That's how this all began, right? That's how _we_began."

"Yes, but that's not how _we_developed."

"Well, judging from here, maybe we didn't develop that much, did we?" she said, with such hardness in her voice he couldn't find a proper way to respond.

Interrupting them, they heard the noise of the door opening up and Marc's voice; followed by another one neither of them knew. When the boy came into the room he had a giant smile on his face. Wilhelmina's gaze immediately shifted on the man who came in after Marc.

He was older than Marc, but younger than her. He was probably in his early forties. Somewhere round Daniel's age, probably. His hair was blonde and its length came to the base of his neck. Tall and muscular, he was definitely not one to go unnoticed.

And he smiled at her.

"Willie, I have our new dog-sitter," Marc exclaimed, pointing courteously to the man beside him. "His name is Sawyer. And he's amazing."

Wilhelmina tilted her head, and Daniel shifted his gaze in between his wife and the newcomer. He could see why Marc had chosen the man: he had the good looks and the charm, and he was probably gay too.

"Yes, thank you Marc," he said, quickly. "Now, Wilhelmina and I were discussing-"

"We're done," Wilhelmina said.

"No, we're not," he said.

"Yes, we are," she said, with a resolute tone. "Now, Sawyer. What are your…qualifications? Except for Marc having the hots for you, I mean."

Daniel shook his head in disbelief. "You're not walking out on me," he called after her.

Wilhelmina sighed and closed her eyes, attempting to calm down. Then she looked up at the tall man and put on a smile. "You know what, Sawyer, why don't you just show me? Let's go take Hudson out for a walk."

"Wilhelmina!" Daniel tried again, watching as his wife and the man approached the door. She ignored him and reached to the side table, taking out a box he hadn't seen before.

"I ordered this the other day," she told Sawyer, taking out a beautiful white leash.

"Miss Slater, you realize your dog is a Labrador, and Labradors are quite…messy. This is not gonna stay white for long."

"Well, you better try and make it stay white, because it's Versace."

"You bought a designer leash?" Sawyer asked, biting his bottom lip to suppress the chuckle.

"Yeah, laugh all you want, my dog's not going to be one of those ugly dogs you see on the street. He's mine, and he has to portray the elegance and class of the owner."

Hudson chose that moment to walk in, holding a white Manolo, now covered in drool. Wilhelmina's eyes widened and she gasped.

As Marc's set out to catch the dog, Sawyer looked at Wilhelmina with a bright smile. "Well, he has good taste."

"Oh, shut up."

Watching the younger man flirting with his wife, Daniel felt a pang and it brought him straight to phase five.

Paranoia.

_Anyhow, anyhow  
>I wish you both all the best<br>I hope you get along_

As they walked in the shadow of the oak trees of Central Park, Wilhelmina and the man named Sawyer looked casually around. Sawyer was holding Hudson's leash, and the dog was walking just a few steps ahead of them, stopping and sniffing around every other time.

"Doesn't that bother you?" Sawyer said at a certain point.

"If he wants to sniff, he can do it, not my business," she said, kicking a rock with her foot.

"I was talking about _them,_" he said. Wilhelmina looked up to see what he was referring to, and noticed a couple of people snapping photographs meters away from them. She shrugged. "I would be so pissed."

"After twenty years, I'm accustomed to that," she said, fixing her eyes on Hudson. "By the way, just so you know, chances are high you'll be all over Page Six tomorrow, labeled as _Wilhelmina Slater's rebound guy_."

Sawyer chuckled. "Well, I don't read Page Six, so no problem."

She smiled bitterly.

"Miss Slater, I know it's not appropriate but…I just wanted to tell you that…I'm sorry for what happened."

"I thought you said you don't read Page Six?" she said, furrowing her forehead.

"Yes, but I don't live under a rock," he cleared out.

Wilhelmina nodded. "I guess no one can have it all," she said, returning the small smile. "It's my second divorce."

"Who knows, third time's a charm," the man exclaimed.

"Third time? Never again," she said, scoffing. "Too much stress for nothing."

"Oh, I would hardly call it nothing. Sure, when it hurts, it hurts bad. But when it's good…it's really good."

Hudson stopped and picked up a stone from the ground. Sawyer bent and tried to take it from his claws. Wilhelmina chuckled at the scene, as the man cursed under his breath when Hudson bit on his finger to punish him for taking away his toy.

"Miss Slater, your dog is a bully," he exclaimed, looking down at his finger.

Wilhelmina reached out and took the stone her dog had been playing with from his hands. "He takes after me," she said, bending and giving back the impromptu toy to the small puppy. When she stood up, she reached into her purse for a handkerchief and handed it to Sawyer, who wrapped it around his finger.

"Thank you, Miss," he said.

Wilhelmina studied him for a second; she smiled, relishing the serenity surrounding them. "Call me Wilhelmina."

_But you don't even know the meaning of the words "I'm sorry"  
>You said you would love me until you die<br>And as far as I know you're still alive, baby  
>You don't even know the meaning of the words "I'm sorry"<br>I'm starting to believe it should be illegal to deceive a woman's heart_

Marc had tried not to walk around Daniel that afternoon, while Wilhelmina and the new dog-sitter had gone out. From his position near the counter, he could see the back of the man's head, sitting on the couch. He'd been there, staring at the blank TV screen ever since Wilhelmina had left the apartment, he hadn't even moved a muscle when his phone had ringed.

Marc sighed and, against his better judgment, he reached in the cupboard and grabbed a glass. Pouring a generous amount of water in it – maybe scared of what alcohol might do to a husband who just witnessed his wife going out with possibly the most good-looking man on Earth – he walked to the couch and sat down next to him, handing him the glass.

After a few seconds, Daniel accepted the glass and sipped from it. Then, he started to turn the glass into his hands, looking down on the transparent liquid with a rueful smile. "I suppose this is not vodka."

Marc tilted his head. "No, and the liquor's cabinet is off limits for you today."

Daniel chuckled. "I must be really in a bad state if you care about me."

"I don't care about you," Marc cleared out. "I cared about the furniture, and I don't want you to smash everything up in your drunken fumblings."

"Please tell me Mister Bright Smile has at least one flaw."

"He's not gay."

"I said a flaw, Marc."

"That's a big flaw for me."

_Open heart  
>Open heart<br>__It should be illegal to deceive a woman's heart_


	10. Scared of Lonely

**Scared of lonely**

_I'm in this fight and I'm swinging and my arms are getting tired  
>I'm trying to beat this emptiness but I'm running out of time<br>I'm sinking in the sand and I can't barely stand  
>I'm lost in this dream, I need you to hold me<br>I'm scared of lonely_

Sure enough, the next morning as she drank her coffee in the kitchen, there on page six of the post was a picture of her and Sawyer standing in the park. The headline read the exact words she had said to the man as they had walked with Hudson. _Wilhelmina Slater's Rebound Guy?_The picture they had used hadn't helped matters. In the frame staring back at her, she had her head dipped and arms folded, smiling slightly as she kicked the stone for Hudson. The whole positioning of her body and smile on her face made her look coy, which was most definitely a look she did not wear, and flirtatious. Sawyer; for his part, was looking at her with a brilliant smile painted on his rugged face.

If she was looking at any other two people in the picture, she would have surmised the same as the rest of the world already had about her and her dog walker. It was flattering, and just the little boost she needed right about now, she was growing tired of reading about her 'devastation' and 'humiliation'.

After returning last night, Daniel had been so morose he hadn't even attempted to come near her. This wasn't what she wanted, she didn't want to wound him, she just wanted him gone. If facing the reality that she would eventually move on and be with someone else is what he needed to get the hint and leave her then so be it.

Just as she was reading a paragraph demonstrating how her estranged husband must be feeling, the estranged husband in question walked in the kitchen. Upon seeing him, she closed the paper hurriedly. She dimly wondered why she didn't leave it open in front of him, watch the pain cloud over his eyes and relish in his discomfort; hell, she didn't know why she didn't just do what the tabloids were suggesting and screw Sawyer right under Daniel's nose, but ultimately that wasn't her style.

Daniel opened the fridge and pulled out some juice, as he closed the door he looked over at her hands clasped on top of the now closed paper. "Don't bother, I've seen it."

She nodded slowly. "And?"

He looked at her, attempted to smile. He wanted to tell her he didn't care, wanted to mock her for people thinking she was slumming it with the help. He couldn't quite force the smile to his eyes though, and deflated. "What do you think?"

Wilhelmina ran her tongue over her bottom lip and looked down at the folded newspaper. "You know there's no truth in it."

"I know." He spoke softly.

"And I didn't leave the house with him to hurt you." She said, giving him some solace he didn't deserve.

"I know." He repeated.

She dragged her gaze up until she locked stares with him. "But I'm glad it does."

"Do it."

She screwed her face up, confused. "What?"

He walked closer but remained on the other side of the island. Placing his juice down and pressing his palms against the surface, leaning towards her. "Do it. Whatever you thinking, do it. Hurt me, hurt me like I hurt you so we can be even and put an end to it. Be even, move past it together."

She shook her head and laughed lightly, disbelieving. "It doesn't work like that Daniel. Anyway, I've done a lot of things in my life that I regret. Sleeping with someone while I'm in love with someone else is not one I care to add to the list."

He chose his next words carefully, treading on eggshells; aware that this somewhat civil atmosphere between them could instantly flip and return to the hostility he had been living in recently. "So you're still in love with me?" His voice barely reached a whisper.

"I already told you that."

"No you said love, not _in_ love, it's an entirely different thing."

She closed her eyes. "Stop doing this Daniel. Stop trying, I can't keep pushing you back. I can't keep fighting. I can't keep having you looking at me like your world is ending."

"It is."

"And mine isn't?"

He swiftly moved past the question, not wanting to descend into another argument. "You know this is the longest conversation we've had in a long time, we're getting better."

He saw her hands flex on the newspaper before her and knew the small movement was her trying to keep her emotions in check. He hated seeing her crumble, but he had to if he ever wanted to be the one to put her back together. He walked around the island and put his hand on one of her wrists. For the first time in weeks, she didn't try and pull away from the initial touch, he pulled on it lightly and she turned on the spot to face him.

"I'm gonna ask you again Wilhelmina, one last time."

She twisted her neck and looked down to the floor at the side, not trusting herself to break under his watchful eye. His hand came up to her cheek and slowly brought her back to face him. "Willie, tell me what it takes. There must me something I can do, anything. Willie..."

When he heard her take a catching breath deep into her lungs, yet still not move away from him, he swallowed and tried to close the distance between them; slower and softer than when they had last been together. For the briefest of seconds she let her guard down, for the smallest moment Daniel was given hope as the very tip of his lips brushed hers.

As soon as she felt the contact, she whipped her head to the side, the defences going back up one brick at a time. His hand still warmed her cheek, she opened her mouth to speak; Daniel awaited her words, her conditions, a way to be let back in.

He never got it.

"Brian called this morning. The papers will be ready next week."

He let his hand fall from her face and took a step back, knowing his wife well enough to know that the moment had passed.

"Good morning to you Willilicious, good morning pond scum!" Marc trilled as he breezed into the kitchen. He was completely oblivious to the tension in the room, at the two people who now stood merely a meter apart, staring into each other.

When neither of them answered, he turned to them, coffee pot in mid-air as he poured a healthy measure into the mug he held. When he saw the proximity of them, the determination in both sets of eyes, he knew he had walked in on something meant only for husband and wife and stopped his movements.

"So that's it?" Daniel asked, paying no attention to Marc.

"That's it." She confirmed, equally showing no indication she was aware of Marc's presence.

Marc began walking backwards from the room, still holding the coffee pot. He had almost successfully retreated from the room when the door opening broke their trance and the excited yapping of the puppy could be heard as it bounded from its haven on Wilhelmina's couch to greet the visitor.

Daniel stepped back as Sawyer entered the room. He was smiling, unaware of the atmosphere. "Mornin' Marc, mornin' Ms Slater." He nodded.

"I told you, call me Wilhelmina." She brightened as she took in his mega-watt grin.

He nodded to her, kneeling to scratch the excitable Hudson behind the ears. "Mornin' Daniel."

"That's Mr Meade. How did you get in?" He asked, hands on his hips, hating the intrusion of the man.

Sawyer looked up at him and fished in the pocket of the loose khaki shirt he wore. He pulled his fingers out, dangling a key from them.

"You gave a stranger a key?" Daniel directed his question to Wilhelmina.

"Why not? I have one sleeping on my couch."

Daniel looked from her to Marc, who was shifting his eyes between the couple, and then to Sawyer, who was pretending to be enamoured with the dog. "Fine." He stomped from the room.

Once he was gone, Sawyer looked up at Wilhelmina. "I'm sorry you had to see that, but I'll warn you if he insists on staying here, you'll probably see a lot more." She smirked.

Still, with that ever-present smile, he looked at her. "I grew up with four sisters, I'm more than accustomed to a few harsh words."

Her smirk slowly softened into a small smile, this man in front of her made it hard to stay mad. He seemed to exude some kind of aura that just made people in his company happy; people except Daniel that is. Wilhelmina would usually be revolted by the ray of sunshine which had been brought into her life, but in the storm she was currently facing, he was exactly what she needed. Not for the reasons Daniel and everyone else seemed to think, but just for someone to show her some kindness with no personal agenda, for someone to take her as they found her and not believe everything they read in the press, for someone who always had a smile in his eyes for her, instead of the pity she saw in everyone else.

Sawyer scooped Hudson up in one hand, the creature looking tiny in his large, manly grip. "Well if you'll excuse me; I'm gonna take this little fella for his mornin' constitutional."

Wilhelmina watched him leave the room with the canine she had finally accepted was hers. She shook her head when Marc cleared her throat, realising she had been staring at the spot the handsome helper had vacated. When she faced Marc, he was smiling.

"What?" She snapped at him.

He folded his arms and swung his torso side to side. "Nothing."

She rolled her eyes. "Not you too."

"Well, come on Willie! You have seen him right? The man is walking perfection!"

"In case you haven't noticed, I'm in the middle of a particularly painful breakup."

"I know, I'm just saying, maybe you could use a little pain relief."

She stared at him, and for the first time since this debacle had began she wanted to scream at Marc, but she rationalised that he had been her rock thus far and deserved the benefit of the doubt. "I'm not a Meade, I don't need sex or alcohol to relieve my pain. I need vindication."

"Are you nearly ready?" Marc changed the subject.

She looked around the room. "I'm not coming in today." She knew Daniel was definitely going into the office and she was more than a little disconcerted by the moment they had shared mere minutes ago, when she had been so close to letting him back in. When she had been weak; when all she wanted was to fully have her husband back. She didn't want to be within six blocks of him today.

"Oh really?" Marc arched his brow, suggestively, thinking her plan was to be left alone with Sawyer.

Following his train of thought, she narrowed her eyes. "Marc, I can't tell you how grateful I am for all you've done these past weeks; but if you keep insinuating that I am about to jump into bed with someone else..." She swallowed, "I can't even think of that right now. Let me get over Daniel first for God's sake."

He nodded. "I'm sorry."

She shook her head, dismissing the subject. "Daniel has a town car booked for 9am, catch a ride in with him. Bring me the book home, I'll see you tonight."

She left her friend standing in the kitchen, watching her leave. He wondered if she realised what he already did.

That she would never really get over Daniel.

_I try to be patient but I'm hurting deep inside  
>And I can't keep waiting, I need comfort late at night<br>And I can't find my way, won't you lead me home?  
>'Cause I'm lost in this dream, I need you to hold me<em>

Both women sat at the respective heads of the table, hands clasped on the surface, staring each other down. Fey wore a smirk on her face, she was always amused by the animosity Claire held towards her. Claire, on the other hand, held no trace of emotion in her face as she took in the woman's request.

"No." She said, lowly.

Fey tilted her head. "You know, I find it amusing that you think you can tell me what to do. You never managed to stop me sleeping with your husband, how do you think you can stop me doing anything else?"

Claire refused to rise to Fey's goading. "Well dear I don't know if you know this, but officially you are dead. If someone were to make that a reality...no one would be any the wiser."

"Aw Claire, I really get under your skin that much you would kill me twice? I'm flattered." Fey said, pretending to fan herself.

"I'm not talking about me you poisonous bitch._I_ will talk to Wilhelmina about our situation."

"It has to be me."

"Oh get over yourself and stop acting like Chief Mugwump will you? You are not all powerful Fey Sommers."

Fey shook her head. "Claire, you don't know her like I do. I know how her mind ticks, I know how she works. Right now she is methodically working out the reason I returned; the whys and wherefores. She won't believe what we told her, because it's ingrained in her to see everything as a lie until proven otherwise. It has to be me, I can talk her round, I always could."

"Why do you care so much about Wilhelmina's well being?"

"Why do you?"

"Because it's directly linked to my son's"

Fey ran her tongue over her teeth. "I care about her because..." Fey threw her hands up, sighing, "Hell, you don't need to know why, I just do. We had a very complex relationship, but I am responsible for who she is today, and I don't mean career wise. She has always had the talent. I'm the one who ground her down, shaped her into the monster she became; the monster she'll go back to being if she and Daniel part ways."

"And that concerns you because?"

Fey took a deep breath, knowing if she truly wanted help from the woman she had never seen as more of an obstacle keeping her from her love, then she would have to lay everything down. "If Wilhelmina does indeed leave Daniel, he is going to turn to the nearest available source of comfort; don't deny it, he's like Bradford in that respect. And my daughter is like me, she will reach out and pull him in with greedy little hands."

"Daniel wouldn't fall for that." Claire defended her son.

"Yes he would; because he's terrified of being alone and so is Amanda. Wilhelmina is too, and if she ends up the only one who is indeed alone and the two people who hurt her most move on together..." She took a deep breath. "Well I think you'll remember what she can be like."

"What makes you so sure Amanda will try and get him?"

"Because I know how her mind works too; right now she is feeling so unloved, so guilty, that in her mind the drunken mistake, that was her and Daniel, is becoming something more to her, taking on romantic notions, to her they are becoming star-crossed lovers. I know my child's delusions, because they were once mine."

Fey looked to the side, unwilling to share her next admission. "But like Bradford...Daniel will never fall out of love with his wife." She spoke softly, before looking at a shell-shocked Claire. "I don't want my daughter living a life where she is second best, I know how much that hurts."

Claire smiled softly, the words lifting her heart. "Thank you."

Fey cleared her throat, shaking off the feelings that overcame her. "Anyway, you just make sure Daniel is out of the apartment and I will make sure that scampering little poodle Marc St James is nowhere in the vicinity; give me two hours with her."

Claire nodded. "You'll have to make sure that her housekeeper and dog walker are out too."

"Dog walker?" Fey twitched her brow. "_My_ Wilhelmina hates dogs."

Claire stood from the table and lifted her purse. "Seems you don't know her as well as you first did, she's not _your_ Wilhelmina anymore."

Fey watched Claire slowly walk from the room as she called back to her, without turning around.

"She's Daniel's."

_I'm scared of lonely  
>And I'm scared of being the only shadow I see along a wall<br>And I'm scared of the only heart beat I hear beating is my own  
>And I'm scared of being alone, I can't seem to breathe<br>When I am lost in this dream, I need you to hold me  
>I'm scared of lonely, I'm scared of lonely<em>

"So come on Suarez, you can't really be on Team Meade now can you?"

Betty looked up from her work and smiled at the grinning face of Marc St James, who was standing in the doorway with his arms folded. She quickly got up from her desk and walked to him, hugging him fiercely. "Hi you."

He stepped back and held her by her upper arms. "So let's take a proper look at you. No to the shoes, no to the skirt, burn the blouse." He squinted at her, "The jacket can stay, vintage?"

She nodded. "I'm proud." He smiled at her.

Betty walked from him, back into the office, with him following. "I'm sorry we didn't get to talk at the apartment, it was just..."

"More awkward than your dad walking into find you doing a Flashdance routine in your sister's leotard?"

She grinned, "Something like that."

He sat down on the edge of the desk. "Anyway, you didn't answer my question. You're not really taking his side are you?" His voice had become softer, more serious.

Betty leaned on the desk, next to him. "I'm not taking sides Marc. What he did was so wrong, so awful, but that's not the Daniel I know. He must have been in a really bad place, and I hate to see him suffer like this."

"You think he's suffering? Betty, you know Wilhelmina, you know how strong she is, how fiercely independent. She's broken, she put everything she had on the line, opened herself up fully to this man to get him to forgive her past so they could build a life together and he threw it all back at her."

"I know, but Daniel's my friend, I won't turn my back on him. He made a stupid mistake and you know as well as I how sorry he is. I can't hate him."

"I can." Marc growled, looking at the floor. "And I will for a very long time, like I told Willie, it's my job as the best friend; that and finding her a little playmate to bounce around with."

Betty laughed. "Ah yes, I heard about Hudson."

He turned to her and looked at her like she was an idiot. "Not Hudson, Sawyer. Hudson was the window I needed to get a hot piece of ass in that apartment."

Betty grimaced. "Marc, I doubt that's what she needs right now."

He shrugged, "We'll see. I'm not saying she needs to roll under the sheets with him, but I know she needs something to show her she can at least try to move past this."

"You don't think she'll ever get over him, do you?"

Marc pursed his lips, still staring at the carpet, and shook his head. Betty sighed. "And he won't get over her."

The two of them stayed still, both lost in thought for their friends, their reverie was broken when the lights above them flickered. "What was that?" Marc asked.

Betty flapped her hand. "Nothing, it's been playing up for a while now. Claire's sorting it. I'll mention it to Daniel"

Marc nodded. "He fucked up big style B." Swiftly changing the subject back to the matter at hand. "That's why I'm firmly on Team Slater, I guess you're still a champion for Team Meade though huh?"

"What about Team Tanen?" Betty asked softly.

Marc scoffed. "I love Mandy, I do. But right now, she does not get anyone in her corner, she's as much to blame as Daniel." He looked at her. "I'm glad you're here though, for both of them, I admire that Betty."

She smiled and leaned her head on his shoulders. "What ever happened to the days when they hated each other; father marrying, sister screwing, plotting, scheming and undermining days?"

He leaned his chin on her head and laughed.

"Was much simpler wasn't it?"

_I cry at night 'cause my baby's too far to be by my side  
>To wipe away these tears of mine so I hold my pillow tight<br>To imagine you I'll stretch your hand looking for mine  
>'Cause I'm lost in this dream, I need you to hold me<em>

After work that day, Daniel made an ill advised stop, he knew he shouldn't have and the press would have a field day if they saw him, but he felt it only fair. He had been so used to seeing her down-trodden and red-eyed of late that he was surprised when the door swung open and he looked upon the bright eyed smile of Amanda.

"Daniel!" She exclaimed, "Come in."

She stood back and let him enter, he walked to the small breakfast table and sat down, fingers drumming on the surface. "I thought you should know that my divorce papers will be ready next week."

Amanda's eyes widened as she felt her heart surge. "And?" She asked with a hopeful grin.

"And I thought you should know because it's only gonna get crazier press-wise, your phone will be ringing off the hook."

"Oh...I see, is that all?"

Daniel screwed his face up, thinking. "What else would there be?"

"Nothing, no nothing." She added, too quickly, a sinking feeling in her stomach.

Daniel stood. "Well I should go...just, be prepared for the backlash won't you?"

She nodded as he came closer, stopping him by grabbing his bicep. He stopped and faced her. "Daniel, I know how hard this must be for you. Just remember, me and you, we're in the same boat here. You need a friend, I'm here."

She leaned in and hugged him, his hands went around her back and he whispered. "Thank you."

She moved back still in his embrace. "You're welcome. You need anything, and I mean _anything_...call me." She pressed a kiss to his cheek.

He stepped back from her, regarding her strangely. Just what was she offering him? Was she offering to support him as a friend, or something more? Did she think differently of the night the spent together? He opened his mouth to speak, but she cut him off before he could get the chance. "Anyway Daniel, thanks for the heads up."

After a couple more seconds of scrutiny, he nodded his head slowly and left the apartment.

Amanda looked at the closed door, smiling, and bit her lip. He didn't need to come all the way over here to tell her that. He could have called.

He hugged her back.

He didn't refuse her offer.

He didn't push her away when her lips met his cheek.

_I'm scared of lonely  
>And I'm scared of being the only shadow I see along a wall<br>And I'm scared of the only heart beat I hear beating is my own  
>I'm scared of being alone, I can't seem to breathe<br>When I am lost in this dream, I need you to hold me_

Wilhelmina lay on top of the covers on her bed, she was trying desperately to nap, having not been sleeping at night due to the close proximity of her husband. The tiredness was creeping up on her, it was her constant fatigue that had almost resulted in her allowing Daniel to kiss her that morning, she was sure of it.

Just as she felt sleep threaten to take her a high pitched yelping reached her ears, followed by the familiar sound of her door closing. She tried to get back into the state of mind to let her fall asleep but her mind refused to shut back down. Wearily pulling herself from the bed, she checked her reflection in the mirror and cursed Daniel for the thousandth time for the shadows around her eyes.

She opened the door to her room and smiled, for something so small, that dog could make a hell of a lot of noise. She could hear the clicking of his little claws on the tile in her kitchen and the yapping was slowly becoming a sound she didn't register anymore.

"Hudson, c'mere...Hudson!" She heard Sawyer's deep southern drawl penetrating the house.

She came to the threshold of the kitchen and watched in amusement as the masculine man was thwarted by a small blonde pup; who was now unable to be classed as blonde due to the amount of mud caked in his fur.

"Been for a mud bath Hudson?" She quipped from her position at the door.

Sawyer's head whipped around at the sound of her voice, and there it was again, the smile she was already used to seeing. "Wilhelmina, I didn't know you were here."

She shrugged, "The office can manage without me for a day...just."

"I'm sorry about the mess, I'll have him cleaned up in a jiffy."

She nodded. "You can clean him in the guest bathroom, that's the one Daniel's using so it's used to dirty dogs."

Sawyer chuckled and picked up the puppy, leaving her as he went to the bathroom. Biting on her lip, she slowly followed him. Peering inside as he filled the tub with a couple of inches of water and plopped Hudson into it, who instantly began scrambling to get out. Sawyer held him down firmly with one hand and set about cleaning him. He pulled a small bottle from his pocket and squeezed a drop of liquid onto the fur; lathering the dog up until he was nothing more than a ball of suds with eyes. Hudson shook himself and covered Sawyer with soap, muck and water.

From her stand at the doorway, Willie laughed. Sawyer tilted his head and caught her there. "Betcha wouldn't think it so funny if this was all over your Dior?" He grinned.

"You really don't know fashion do you, this is Armani." She smiled back.

She walked into the room and cleared her throat, never one to make small talk, she was finding it difficult to start. "Did you always want to work with animals?" _Lame Wilhelmina, really fucking lame._

If he caught her discomfort, it didn't show. "I did, my dad wasn't too keen on the idea though."

"Ah, disappointed fathers, I know them well." She leaned against the wall.

"He wanted me to take over his business, being the only son and all, but it just wasn't my scene."

"What wasn't?"

"Oil rigs." He laughed.

"Oil rigs." She repeated, incredulous. "You're telling me your father is an oil tycoon, but you'd rather walk dogs for a living?"

He continued to laugh. "That would be correct."

He lifted the now clean puppy from the bath and wrapped him in the towel Wilhelmina handed him. After a few seconds of frenzied rubbing, the puppy was dry and a fuzzy mound of fur emerged from the towel and scampered off.

Sawyer and Wilhelmina looked at each other, an awkward silence falling now that the dog wasn't there to act as a buffer. He ran a hand through his shoulder length hair. Willie smiled at him before her eyes widened. "Shit, that dog's too damn quiet!"

She hurried from the room and sure enough, found Hudson happily chewing on something in the hallway. "Hudson NO!" She shouted and tried to wrench whatever it was from the dog. Eventually he relented and Wilhelmina pulled one of Daniel's silk ties from his teeth. She looked down at the dog and grinned. "Good boy." She threw the tie back to him and ruffled the fur on his head.

Behind her, Sawyer laughed. "You know if you had some toys for him, he wouldn't chew as much."

"What are you, the dog whisperer?"

He smiled. "I just have an affinity with them. I get them and they get me. Dogs are much better than people, you get from the relationship exactly what you put in. There's no bullshit or power plays or mind games with dogs. You love them and they love you back, it's that simple."

She swallowed, his words hitting too close to home. "Marc said he got a whole bunch of dog stuff when he got him. I think he put it in the hall closet."

She walked to the closet and felt Sawyer behind her as she opened it. "I've upset you, I'm sorry. My ma' always told me I could fit both feet in my mouth in less than five words."

"It's fine, really." She rummaged through the closet, Sawyer reached up search the top shelf where she couldn't reach. He pulled down the items in front. "Oh." He said softly as he looked at what was in his hand.

Wilhelmina turned to look at what he was holding. "What...oh." She sighed. "So that's where Marc hid them all."

In his hand Sawyer held a stack of picture-frames, inside the top frame were Daniel and Wilhelmina. The picture was not posed or forced, it had been taken without them knowing . They were happy, his hands were on her hips and his body leaned towards hers as he whispered something in her ear, his lips curved in a smile. Her hands held his biceps as she listened to his words, smiling back at him.

She took the picture from Sawyer and sat down on the floor, her legs stretched in front of her as she studied the photo in silence. Sawyer sat down next to her, not speaking, waiting for her to say the first word.

"It feels like I'm looking at two other people." She stated, no emotion, just staring at the picture.

"When was it?"

"The day we got married."

"No it's not."

Wilhelmina turned to face him. "Excuse me?"

"That ain't your wedding day." He pointed at the picture. "I've seen you wedding day in that magazine y'all work at, and that ain't it."

She squinted at him. "Mode doesn't seem like your kind of reading material."

He pointed at himself with his thumb. "Four sisters, remember?"

She laughed. "Okay, so it's not our wedding day." She sighed. "It was _supposed_ to be."

"Whaddya mean?"

She looked at him and opened her mouth to answer, suddenly realising she was sharing with a complete stranger. "What is it that makes you so easy to talk to?"

He shrugged. "Just one of those faces I guess." He nudged her with his elbow. "Anyway, you were sayin'."

She looked back at the picture. "We'd been together for about ten months when we told people about us. There was all the reactions you would expect, but after a year we still hadn't convinced Claire. She still hated me, rightly I might add, so Daniel decided 'to hell with it' he wanted to marry me."

Sawyer looked at her, urging her to continue.

"We only told three people, Marc, Daniel's assistant Betty and..._her_" She laughed mirthlessly, "Amanda, and we only told her because we knew Marc would anyway. Marc and Betty were going to be witnesses, go out at lunchtime, down to the courthouse and bam; get married, back in work in time for afternoon meetings."

"That doesn't sound very romantic."

She looked at the picture, her thumb stroking the smiling faces. "Oh but it was. It was me and him, doing it our way. Just about us, no one else. What's more romantic than that?"

"So what stopped you?"

Her head leaned back to rest against the wall. "Amanda, before she was a home-wrecker, she held the title of world's worst secret keeper and she blabbed to Claire. Next thing we know, like something out a bad 80's movie, Claire races into the courthouse and stops the wedding."

"Really?" He laughed.

She nodded. "I think that might have been the turning point for Claire, when she realised how real it was. Anyway, she said she couldn't bear not to see Daniel get married, no matter who to. So we walked out the courthouse and ended up with the media circus wedding you saw in Mode. As far as I was concerned it was just for appearances."

She lifted the stack of photos from Sawyer and looked through them until she found what she was looking for. She pulled out the picture; Daniel in topcoat and tails, she in the most beautiful gown. "You see that might be our wedding day." She pointed to the posed picture of bride and groom."But to me..." she pointed at the one she still held, which Marc had taken, clicking the camera like an idiot outside the courthouse, "THAT was the day we got married."

Staring at both the pictures, remembering how happy they had been, made her eyes burn. She swallowed and thrust both pictures back to Sawyer.

He reached over and lightly cupped her chin between his fingers and turned her head. When she was facing him he used a thumb to wipe the wetness under her eyes. He looked deep in her eyes and for once didn't offer up his trademark smile.

His eyes stayed on hers as he moved his head closer, Wilhelmina didn't move; did not withdraw or respond as he whispered. "I hope he knows what a fool he is."

"He does." The hurt, angry voice came from the top of the hall.

Daniel stood looking down at his wife on the floor with the handsome stranger. His anger faded when Wilhelmina looked back at him and he saw the shining in her eyes. His gaze shifted to Sawyer and he saw the stack of pictures in his lap; the evidence of his life with her. He walked up to them, bent down and picked up all the photographs. Neither Wilhelmina nor Sawyer spoke as Daniel placed them back in the closet and slowly walked back out the apartment.

Wilhelmina was too tired to fight him as she heard the door click shut.

_I need your break when nobody is around  
>'Cause I'm tired of this emptiness<br>I think I'm drowning, I can't be lonely  
>And I'm lost in this dream, I need you to hold me<em>

Claire loved to watch the rain, it soothed her; and that was exactly what she needed right now. Half her family was on the other side of the Atlantic and the other half was being ripped apart. Her son stood to lose the company his family had built for generations and she had been spending increasing amounts of time with her recently resurrected love rival.

Sometimes sparkling water just didn't cut it.

She drank deeply from the scotch and groaned when her doorbell rang. The last time she had a late night visitor it had been by someone she believed dead.

Who was it now? Bradford?

She opened the door and gasped, broken hearted at the empty man stood on the threshold. Daniel was soaked to the skin, the expression of defeat on his face hurt her as she took in the shell he had become.

He was looking at the ground, rain streaming down his face, but she knew the raindrops were mixed with his tears. She reached out a hand and pulled him inside, hugging him with all her strength, letting him break against her.

"Can I stay here?" He asked against her shoulder, in a pitiful voice.

"Of course." She whispered back and then closed her eyes in pain as she heard a sob coming from her baby boy.

He pulled back and looked at his mother, forced himself to say the words he had been avoiding for weeks.

"It's really over."

_I'm scared of lonely  
>And I'm scared of being the only shadow I see along a wall<br>And I'm scared of the only heart beat I hear beating is my own  
>And I'm scared of being alone, I can't seem to breathe<br>When I am lost in this dream, I need you to hold me_


	11. I Didn't Know My Own Strength

**I didn't know my own strength**

_Lost touch with my soul  
>I had nowhere to turn<br>I had nowhere to go_

"Maybe this wasn't a good idea," Amanda said, suddenly, ceasing every movement to look at Betty who was setting the table while she was trying to put the stuff scattered around the place away.

"Mandy, it's about time you and Marc try and get things sorted," the brunette told her friend, resuming her task, placing plates down on the white tablecloth. "It's like you and him are getting a divorce along with Daniel and Wilhelmina."

"Marc and I do speak to each other," Amanda pointed out, patting on the cushions of the couch. "Just, not that often."

"When was the last time you saw Marc?" Betty asked, lifting an eyebrow poignantly.

Amanda rolled her eyes. "That doesn't mean we don't talk."

"Amanda."

"The day Daniel left the apartment. He came by to pick up a few things, and he just said…nothing."

"What did he say?" Betty insisted.

"Nothing really," Amanda said, shrugging while she walked around the room picking up necklaces and accessories on her way. "Basically, I was hugging Daniel, because he was leaving, and Marc came in and he wasn't pleased. Then Daniel went away, and Marc just told me he needed space. That he loved me, that he wanted to help me, but that he had priorities and responsibilities towards the wronged one."

"That's…positive, I guess," Betty said, clearly having difficulties finding the bright on the matter. "I mean, he said he wanted to help you. I guess in time, when Wilhelmina will be better, he'll be back here."

"Yeah, when Wilhelmina doesn't need him anymore," Amanda said, bitterly. "The woman uses him like a mat."

"Ok, you're angry again," Betty said, shaking her head. She placed the last fork on the table and stepped back to admire her work. The table was set up for three people; nothing formal, but fancy enough to meet Marc's taste.

"What did he say, when you invited him over?" Amanda asked, biting her bottom lip, shoving the pieces of jewelry into a drawer and closing it.

"Nothing really. Muttered something about Daniel being out, and Sawyer being in the house, so he didn't feel guilty leaving Wilhelmina." When Amanda opened her mouth, Betty lifted a finger. "Don't. Don't ask who Sawyer is, and don't snap about Marc being Wilhelmina's mat. I get it."

"Who's Sawyer?" Amanda asked, ignoring Betty.

"No one."

"Is it the dog?" the girl insisted. "I heard she got a dog."

"No, that's Hudson," Betty said, smiling at the thought of the small puppy she still hadn't had a chance to meet. "Sawyer is…a guy. A guy that Marc and Wilhelmina hired to walk the dog, and take care of him. A dog-sitter."

"And what does that have to do with Wilhelmina?" Amanda pressed, narrowing her eyes.

Betty sighed. "Look, I'm not supposed to tell you about this, so don't tell Marc I told you." Betty paused, and Amanda nodded. "For what I understood, Sawyer is a guy that Marc thinks might help Wilhelmina… to move on."

"Move on?" Amanda repeated.

"Yes, move on, get over the situation, start over, whatever you want to call it." Betty was not at east, especially since she hadn't approved of Marc's decision in the first place. She thought their job, as friends, was to push them together, not pull them apart. "Daniel says he's like a model, or something, but I bet he was exaggerating."

"If I know Marc as much as I think I do, he's probably not exaggerating," Amanda chuckled. "Who knows, maybe that way Wilhelmina will get over the scorn." The girl pursed her lips, deep in thoughts of what Wilhelmina's possible romance with another man could bring home for her.

"Wilhelmina will never in a million years get over the scorn," Betty pointed out, but Amanda was miles away.

_Lost sight of my dream,  
>Thought it would be the end of me<br>I thought I'd never make it through  
>I had no hope to hold on to,<br>I thought I would break_

Marc glanced into the main room from the corridor, looking both ways, locating Sawyer standing on the couch. "Is Wilhelmina around?" he asked the man, whispering.

Sawyer looked around and shook his head, confused. "She's on the phone, in her room. Some designer. Why?"

Marc pushed through the doors and sprang forward into the room, reaching the man. "I need you to do me a favor."

"I don't have to kill anyone, do I?" Sawyer asked, a hint of panic in his voice.

Marc scoffed and waved his hand, laughing at the suggestion. "Maybe, one day," he said. "No, I need you to stay here."

"What do you mean?" Sawyer questioned, looking around uncomfortably.

"I'm going out, I'm having dinner at Amanda's," Marc said, still whispering.

"Amanda? That Amanda?" Sawyer chimed in.

"Yes, that Amanda," Marc said, quickly. "Now, I want you to stay here with Wilhelmina. I don't really want her to be alone, tonight, with Daniel gone and all. I think what happened got to her."

"What happened?" Sawyer kept asking, not really getting what the boy was talking about.

"Daniel, you know? Her ex husband? The one who walked in on you two in the closet?" Marc said, as if talking to a child.

"We were just talking," Sawyer said, for the umpteenth time that evening. "She was showing me those pictures, and I was trying to be helpful."

"Oh Sawyer, you have no idea of the many ways you could be helpful to that woman," Marc said dreamily, his eyes fixed on the man's toned biceps. Shaking his head out of his trance, Marc put on a smile. "Will you stay with her, please? At least till I come back? It won't be long, I swear."

"How am I supposed to do that?" Sawyer asked, with a grimace. "_Hello Wilhelmina, how about we spend the evening together?"_ When Marc smiled, nodding, the man sighed. "Seriously, Marc. She will throw me out of the apartment. And fire me. She's not that easy going."

In that moment, they both heard a door being opened, in the background, and Marc's eyes widened He sprang to the entrance door and opened up, turning to Sawyer one last time. "Do what I told you!" he hissed, and shut the door before Sawyer could respond.

"Was that Marc?" Wilhelmina asked, stepping into the room, pointing at the door.

Sawyer opened his mouth and looked at the door. "Uhm, yeah," he said. "He's going out. He had…dinner. Business stuff."

"Business?" Wilhelmina asked, frowning. "Weird, I didn't know he had anything planned for tonight."

Sawyer tilted his head and nodded. He stood up and rubbed his hands together. "Where's the little one?" he asked, looking down in search for Hudson.

"In my room, chewing on an expensive belt," she said.

"And you're fine with it?" Sawyer exclaimed, with an amused smirk. "We're making progress."

"I never said it was _my_belt," Wilhelmina pointed out. She looked down at her watch. "I don't mean to be rude but…why are you still here?" she asked.

"Oh, I wanted to…say hi," he said.

Wilhelmina lifted an eyebrow. "Hi."

Sawyer nodded, and with an awkward smile he moved for the door. Then he turned around, and saw Wilhelmina standing in the middle of the room, her arms around herself, and she never seemed more lonely to his eyes.

"Wilhelmina, how about…I mean, if you don't have plans…" he began, walking back to her. "We could…order a pizza?"

Wilhelmina narrowed her eyes. "Do I look like I eat pizza?" Wilhelmina asked. "Actually, do I look like I eat at all?"

"Well, how about I order pizza, and you just sit next to me being your pretty, annoying self?" he said, folding his arms against his chest.

"Wow," Wilhelmina exclaimed. "Pretty _and_annoying. You really are a charmer."

"I'm taking the sarcasm as a good sign," Sawyer said. "I thought you would have my ass out of the house in the blink of an eye."

"Oh, I was thinking about that," she said. _But then I thought I would feel bad for that cute ass of yours._"But I appreciate the attempt at courtesy."

"It's not courtesy, Wilhelmina," Sawyer replied, placing his hands on his hips. "Take it as a…way to get to know Hudson better."

"Hudson."

"Yeah, Hudson," Sawyer repeated, with a huge grin. "You know what they say, dogs resemble their masters. Therefore, getting to know you is the same as getting to know your dog."

"You're making my head hurt," she said, rubbing her temple but unable to hide the smile that curved her lips. "Alright, you can stay. But you need to find a way to order in, because I don't have any home deliveries menus."

"Don't worry, I'm sure I can come up with something edible."

The man walked past her, into the kitchen. Wilhelmina turned to follow him with her gaze.

_Cute ass indeed._

"Careful whatever you do," she said, sighing and setting after him. "You scratch any surface, you pay for it."

_I didn't know my own strength  
>And I crashed down, and I tumbled<br>But I did not crumble  
>I got through all the pain<br>I didn't know my own strength_

Claire walked back into the saloon, where Daniel was standing next to the fireplace, reviving the flames with the iron poker, moving the logs around with more force than it was necessary. She cleared her throat, and her son turned around, placing the poker nearby.

With a small smile, Claire sat down on the couch and patted the spot next to her, inviting him to do the same. He sighed and shook his head, starting to pace in front of her.

"She's moving on," he said.

"What do you mean?" Claire asked. Of course she knew who the subject of her son's ramblings was.

"She's seeing someone else," he said, snorting.

"Oh, I saw the pictures on Page Six. But honestly, Daniel, I think you're reading too much into it," Claire said, trying to maintain the smile on her face despite the pain of watching the person she loved the most in the world crumbling before her eyes.

"It's not the fucking pictures," he exclaimed, stopping and linking his hands behind his head, taking a deep breath to calm down. "I saw her. She was…talking to that guy, and he was touching her, and she was... That's too close for comfort, Mum. That guy is trying to bed her." Daniel paused and let out a breath. "He's trying to bed my wife, he's trying to take her away from me."

"Daniel, darling, calm down," Claire tried, but Daniel was not willing to do so. "Daniel, look at me. Even if this person is trying to make a move on your _ex_wife…Do you really think Wilhelmina would be that weak? Do you really think she would get a relationship started when she still has to close the door on the previous one? Come on, she's better than that."

"The divorce papers will be ready any day now, there will be nothing to stop her then," Daniel said, shaking his head in resignation. "She will do all it takes to get back at me, and to get back at all those people who've been watching her fall in delight. She's after revenge, Mum! Of course she will."

"Daniel, you surprise me. You really think Wilhelmina would sink that low?" she reprimanded him, furrowing her forehead. "I guess I know her better than you do, then."

Daniel bit his bottom lip, then he let his arms fall down his sides. "Call her," he said.

"What?"

"Call Wilhelmina. Ask her about this guy, she will tell you the truth. The two of you have a bond, Mum. Call her and ask her." He walked swiftly to the cordless standing on the side table and snatched it from the base. "Here," he said, handing it to his mother. "Call her."

Claire took the phone from Daniel's hands and stood up. "I'm not going to."

"Why?" Daniel asked.

"Because I care for that woman's happiness. I'm not going to be the one who undermines it. She's free to do whatever she wants to. Plus, I trust her. I trust Wilhelmina, and I know her, and I know she would never do such a thing." She handed the phone pack to his son. "I just wish you would trust her too."

_Survived my darkest hour  
>My faith kept me alive<br>I picked myself back up  
>Hold my head up high<br>I was not built to break  
>I didn't know my own strength<em>

Amanda's head snapped up when she heard the knock on the door. She was half surprised, because Marc had the keys and he wasn't one to knock when he had a chance to let himself in, and half terrified because it was actually the first time she saw him in a week. They never spent that much time apart, unless you count the time when they fought to decide what color to paint the wall with. Eventually, they'd decided for a mix between her pink and his yellow, resulting in a pale orange that they'd both loved at first sight.

Betty looked at her, before walking up to the door and placing her hand on the doorknob. With a last glance in her direction, Betty opened up.

When Marc came into sight, on the threshold, Amanda, felt her heart breaking. She wanted to run to her friend, hug him, hold him and never let him go. But she stayed there, petrified on the spot, as he exchanged greetings with Betty. He stepped over the threshold and his eyes fell on her. A small smile curved his lips. "Hi Mandy."

"Hi Marcia," she whispered, biting her bottom lip, doing her best not to burst into tears. "So, we have salad, grilled chicken, potatoes for the brunette over there," she said, gesticulating madly. "And I baked you a cake," she added, lowering her voice. "But Betty helped me. Without her help, it would be a shapeless amount of flour and sugar."

"You baked me a cake?" Marc said, smirking. "Flavor?"

"Coconut."

"Topping?"

"Chocolate."

Marc smiled. He took off the coat and threw it on the coat, turning to Betty. "Alright, you big furry ball, tell me something about your new awesome, kick-ass job."

Betty smiled and they sat down at the table. "Just the usual," she said, shrugging as she picked up the potatoes bowl and served herself. "The magazine is doing great," she said, passing the bowl to Marc who passed it to Mandy, who put it back on the table. "It's the second best-selling magazine in the UK. And I love it."

"Mode is _the_best selling in the United States," Marc said, with a proud smile.

"The best selling in the fashion industry, Marc," Betty pointed out. "We're second, but on a much larger scale."

"Details," Marc said, shrugging. "Elle, Vogue and Isabella are far, far behind us."

"Oh, speaking of Isabella…" Amanda chimed in. "They offered me a one-year contract, just this morning. Apparently they liked my work ay Fashion Week."

"Really?" Marc said, genuinely happy for her. "That's good. It'll do, at least until…you know, things settle down."

"You think they will settle down?" Amanda asked, picking on her salad.

"Of course they will," Marc exclaimed. "Just give me the time to work my magic."

"Work your magic?" Betty intervened, with an inch of skepticism in her voice. "Does your magic include a hot SoCal boy, by any chance?"

"Betty, I know you're against it, but I have evidence this is my best plan so far," he said, going back to his salad. "They have chemistry. And he likes her already."

"What are you talking about?" Amanda asked. "Is this about what's-his-name, Sawyer?"

Marc turned to Betty narrowing his eyes. "I asked you to keep it quiet." Betty looked down on her plate, stuffing her mouth with a handful of potatoes. Marc turned to Mandy, again, and nodded. "Yes, but don't tell anyone. He's with her, right now," he added, putting emphasis on the last word.

Betty and Amanda exchanged a quick look, for very different reasons. Unbeknownst to the other, they were both thinking about Daniel and his reaction to a possible development such as Wilhelmina having a new relationship.

For very different reasons, though.

_Found hope in my heart,  
>I found the light to life<br>My way out of the dark  
>Found all that I need<br>Here inside of me_

She sipped from the glass of red wine, on the couch, while Sawyer was in the kitchen, apparently cooking. She had told him she was not going to eat, but she wasn't completely sure he would listen to her. While he'd been busy, she had gone back to her room and had changed into something more comfortable. Anyone rarely saw her in jeans, that was something she wore in the house only, and only after marrying Daniel.

So she stood there, in her jeans and an oversized t-shirt, drinking wine and waiting for the closest thing to a man in her life to be done cooking. She chuckled at the idea. One month earlier, Daniel would have been the one she had to wait for; Daniel would have been the one cooking - scratch that, Daniel couldn't cook.

Hudson was curled up at her feet, casually licking his paws and chewing on the corner of the carpet. She looked at the toys that lay abandoned near the pet. He had expensive taste, and apparently the animal toys weren't enough to satisfy him.

"For being so strict on eating habits, you have a _lot_of junk food in there," he said, walking into the room with a tray and various bowls and plates on it. He put it down on the coffee table before the couch, sitting down next to Wilhelmina. She looked down at the things laid on the tray, and grimaced.

"I have no idea what that stuff is," she said.

"Was in your cupboard," he said with a grin, reaching out and taking a handful of chips.

"Must be Daniel's," she said, looking blankly at the chips on his hand. Sawyer stopped, shifting his gaze from the chips to Wilhelmina and back on the chips. Wilhelmina smirked. "It's ok, you know, Daniel's name is not taboo."

Sawyer leaned back against the cushion and nodded slowly. "You know where he might be?" he asked.

"I don't care," Wilhelmina said, taking a large gulp from her drink. "I hope he's under a bridge."

"No you don't," Sawyer said, smirking.

Wilhelmina, with a sigh, shrugged. "No, I don't," she agreed. "But I can't say I'm sorry for him staying out of the way."

"You think he's going to come back, tonight?" Sawyer asked, throwing a chip up in the air and catching it with his mouth.

Wilhelmina watched him, amused, then shook her head. "I don't think so. He's probably at his mother's, licking his wounds." Hudson lifted his head up and looked up at Wilhelmina. When he was sure she wasn't looking, he stood on his four legs and waggled to the coffee table, standing on his back legs, and tried to sniff the food on the table.

Sawyer saw it and he reached for the puppy, lifting him up and putting him on the couch in between himself and Wilhelmina. "Here, boy."

"Shouldn't you teach him _not_to do this kind of thing? Like, getting on the couch and all the rest?" Wilhelmina asked, reaching her hand down to stroke the puppy on the head.

"I know, but he's a little spoilt baby dog," the man said, sticking his tongue out at the dog. However, Hudson was too busy receiving Wilhelmina's attention and he rolled on his back. Wilhelmina laughed and retrieved her hand, looking down on him. "You love him, don't you?"

Wilhelmina looked the man dead straight in the eyes, frowning.

"I meant Hudson," Sawyer added quickly.

Wilhelmina rested her head on the back of the couch, looking lovingly at the small puppy who was stretching his paws up in the air, trying to catch their attention. "I think I do," she whispered. "Don't get me wrong, I'm not a dog person. But this little one…He just came in at the right moment."

"I think you're not as carnaptious as people say," Sawyer said, his eyes fixed on Wilhelmina. "They painted you as a cold, mean, ruthless witch…but in truth, I think you just want to love. Completely and unconditionally."

Wilhelmina tilted her head and looked up at the man. "You might not read _Mode_, but you're most definitely a reader of _Vanity Fair._"

Sawyer lifted an eyebrow. "Four sisters," he repeated.

"Yeah right," she said. "Keep telling yourself that."

They shared a laugh, and Hudson yapped happily at the two of them, wagging his tail madly. Wilhelmina closed her eyes and for a second she allowed herself to feel good.

_I thought I'd never find my way  
>I thought I'd never lift that weight<br>I thought I would break_

The morning after, Wilhelmina stood in the kitchen, dressed to a T, ready to go to Mode when Marc walked in. He smiled sheepishly while she drank from her coffee, closing the newspaper in front of her. "How was your business dinner?" she asked.

It took him a single look to know she hadn't believed it for a second. "I'm sorry Willie."

"I'm not mad," Wilhelmina cut him off. "I just wish you'd told me. You know I'm trying hard not to draw you into all of this, and if you have to sneak out because of me…That makes me feel guilty. And I'm tired of feeling guilty for everything that's going wrong in the world."

Her voice was calm, but Marc knew her well: she was trying hard to look indifferent to the situation, but deep inside his lie had hurt her. "Yes Willie," he said, nodding. "Where's Hudson?"

"With Sawyer. He thinks walking early in the morning is good for his lungs. I tried to tell him it's New York, and there's no such thing as _clean air_, but he wouldn't listen. Anyway, thank you for the newspaper, and the coffee," she said, raising the mug. "What time did you get up?"

"Early," he said, moving with caution. "I went out, bought the newspaper and the coffee, and…you got a delivery." He looked carefully at his boss, choosing every word with prudence. "I signed it for you. It's on the table."

"What is it?" she asked, heading towards the dining room, Marc following quick after her.

"I don't know," he lied.

They approached the table and Marc came up behind her, looking down on the package. It was a yellow folder, big enough to contain only a bunch of papers, certainly not an object. He bit his lip and stole a glance of her. She was looking down at the envelope, while her brain computed what was she was being presented with.

"Is that…"

"I think so," Marc whispered, placing a hand on her shoulder. "Are you ok?"

Wilhelmina shrugged his hand off her and scoffed. "Of course I am."

But she wasn't. She reached for the envelope and turned it around, tossing it back on the table when the address of the sender was in sight. _Brian Perskin Law Office._

The divorce papers.

She took a deep breath and turned her back on the table, and on the package, walking away under Marc's scrutinizing stare. "Aren't you going to open it?" he asked.

"I have to go to work," she said briskly. "And you have to go, too. I'll see you there." She turned around and tilted her head, linking her hands in front of her. She tapped her foot on the floor, and widened her eyes in question.

"Oh you mean now?" Marc said. "You're basically throwing me out."

"For the morning, yes," she said, with a smirk.

Marc sighed and his shoulders fell. Walking up to the door, he stopped on his way to catch his briefcase, which lay abandoned on the couch. "It's ok," he said. "They called anyway, they need me there asap. No idea what it was, they said my presence in the office was _of immediate urgency."_ He opened the door and looked over his shoulder before stepping out. "Are you sure you're ok?" he added.

Wilhelmina nodded, one last time, and the boy closed the door behind him. When she was alone, n the apartment, she turned her head in the direction of the yellow envelope, on the table, and watched it from afar. Her fingers were toying nervously with the fabric of her skirt, and she was chewing nervously on the inside of her cheek. She was about to move when a knock on the door stopped her.

She rolled her eyes, and walked to the door, cursing Marc and his caring behavior. "Marc, I know you want to take care of me but-" she stopped dead on her tracks when the door was opened enough to see who it was.

Her lips parted lightly, as the air was sucked out of her lungs and her heart stopped for a fraction. Looking the visitor from head to toe, she gripped the doorknob tighter.

"Fey."

"Let me in, I can't risk being seen," the woman said.

Wilhelmina took in her appearance: the long black coat, the golden belt high around her waist, the golden stilettos and big dark sunglasses. For Fey, that was dressing down. She stepped aside, letting the ghost of her past into her house.

_I didn't know my own strength  
>And I crashed down, and I tumbled<br>But I did not crumble  
>I got through all the pain<br>I didn't know my own strength_

Daniel was looking at the man sitting right opposite him, but truthfully he was seeing right through him. The man - Steven? Simon? He couldn't remember, for the life of God. However, he had been talking for a few minutes, not giving him any chance to butt in. Daniel had no idea what the man was talking about, but nodded a time or two to show interest.

When Steven (or Simon) stopped, however, and looked at him expectantly, Daniel sighed. "Look Steven-"

"Stan."

"Stan. I'm sure you're aware that a few articles in Vogue and an internship at Elle don't make you nearly enough qualified to apply for the position of Creative Director here at Mode," Daniel said, writing a note down on his agenda. Or at least pretending to do so, when he had actually just drawn a doodle resembling Hudson's muzzle.

Stan opened his mouth to reply, but Daniel lifted his hand. "Now, I'm sure you're a good man, and a good journalist, and a good whatever you are. But I'm also sure you knew your curriculum vitae wasn't good enough for such a prestigious position at Mode, and that you're here only because you're attracted to the media frenzy going around this place at this moment. Now, how about you don't waste my time, and I won't waste yours, and we say goodbye in a civilized manner before I lose my temper and kick you out of here?"

Stan's eyes widened, and the man stood up, his hands clutching the hat in his hands. He nodded once and scurried away, bumping into a tall woman on his way out.

"Bad mood?" asked the newcomer.

Daniel looked up and saw his mother standing on the threshold peeking in. He motioned for her to come in, and she did, sitting on the chair that had been occupied by Stan. She looked at Daniel for a few seconds, with a serene smile on her face, taking in the rigidity in Daniel's muscles just by looking.

"What do you want?" Daniel asked. He hadn't meant to be rude, but given the bad turn of the day, he wasn't in the mood for smothering.

Claire didn't bat an eyelid, but her smile did falter the tiniest bit at his son's attitude. "Have you done something about the electrical glitch we've been experiencing at Mode?" she asked, assuming suddenly a very professional tone.

Daniel looked at her confused. "Electrical glitch?"

"Daniel, I told you five times at least, in the last couple of days," Claire complained, rolling her eyes.

"Well, I'm sorry but the last couple of days haven't been exactly good for me," Daniel snapped. "And if it's that bad, you might have solved the problem on your own. Or Wilhelmina might have, too. Oh but you're too busy, aren't you? She's busy with her new boy toy, and you're busy with your tongue stuck behind her ass."

Claire gasped and her eyes widened. She stood up and took a step forward. "Don't you ever talk to me like that, Daniel Meade," she hissed, lifting a finger. Her hands were shaking in anger, and the blood in her veins was boiling. "I am your mother, and I'm doing all I can to support you, so don't you dare take it out on me, only because I'm trying to be neutral and not hurt any of you."

"You are _my_mother, exactly," Daniel snapped back, standing up like her, with only a desk dividing them. "And yet, you refuse to do what I ask you to, what I beg you to do, because you care about _her_happiness. What kind of a lousy mother are you?"

Claire lifted her hand high, but stopped herself before she could hit him. They stood there, mother and son, face to face, neither moving. Then, Claire slowly lowered her hand and let her arm fall down her side. She took a deep breath and folded her arms.

"You're nervous," she told him, but it was really meant more for herself than for him. "You're mad at the world, I get it. I'm not gonna get into a fight with you. It would be pointless." She turned around and set off, stopping casually midway. "Remember to send out the instructions and the tickets for the annual editors' retreat. It's in a week. I took care of the organizing part, your assistant put everything on your computer. And don't worry, I'll take care of the electrical problem down at Mode. We wouldn't want to upset you more."

The last sentence was spoken with a bitterness that made Daniel feel guilty all over again, for the way he was treating his mother. As he watched her retreat from the room, he felt bad for her, and for what she was going through, but at the same time he was reminded of the countless times he had almost forced Claire and Wilhelmina to get along.

And now, it was all coming back to bite him.

_Survived my darkest hour  
>My faith kept me alive<br>I picked myself back up  
>Hold my head up high<br>I was not built to break  
>I didn't know my own strength<em>

"Aren't you going to offer me something to drink?" Fey asked, taking off the coat and tossing it on Wilhelmina's hanger, revealing the vivid blue dress underneath.

"Arsenic?" Wilhelmina offered, folding her arms. She hadn't moved from her spot near the door, watching her guest move around the house with a familiarity she didn't like. "Why are you here Fey?"

Fey let her hand slide on the surface of the baroque side table, passing her fingers over the refined details. "To catch up, talk…That's what old friends do, right?" Then, with a chuckle, she tilted her head. "Not that I would know, I hardly had any real friends."

"And I was definitely not one of them," Wilhelmina pointed out, taking a few steps forward, following the other woman's movement with careful eyes. "We have nothing to catch up on."

Fey turned around, widening her eyes. "Nothing? Oh dear, you married a Meade. That's like me sitting by a pool with Anna Wintour, drinking Piňa Colada and chatting about how much we miss Twiggy."

Wilhelmina narrowed her eyes. "That has nothing to do with you. Daniel and I are a subject that doesn't involve you in any way."

Fey smirked. "I know," she said, pouting. "But you'll admit that it's an interesting story, isn't it? And you know me, and how I love interesting stories." She walked to the couch and sat down graciously, crossing her legs. "Come on, Wilhelmina. I'm not here to damage you in any way. I'm being honest. I would love to know how it happened. Basically, you did what I never managed to do." She paused, surely for the suspense she loved so much. "You married a Meade. I'm impressed, I must say. You really did make a mission of following into my footsteps."

Wilhelmina lifted an eyebrow. "_I_ was worth it."

To anyone, Fey's reaction would appear to be a small smile, but Wilhelmina saw the ice in her eyes, and knew she had hurt her.

Fey leaned against the back of the couch and looked around once again. "Your apartment is different."

"Are you working for _Extreme Makeover: Home Edition_now?" Wilhelmina asked, pursing her lips.

Fey rolled her eyes and snorted. "Alright, Wilhelmina, I told you I'm not here to antagonize you," she exclaimed, the false pleasantry gone from her stare, replace by the usual steeliness, something that made her appear more normal to Wilhelmina, more like the person she used to know. More real. "Can we just talk, for once? Without the anger, the resentment. Just…talk?"

Wilhelmina's arms fell down her sides, as she allowed herself to relax a bit. She took a few more hesitant steps and went to sit next to Fey. As much as she tried to look poised and controlled, her body language betrayed her, as her foot tapped uncontrollably on the floor, nervously. Fey stretched her arm out and placed her hand on Wilhelmina's knee: the movement stopped immediately. She would never admit it, but Wilhelmina would never cease being intimidated of Fey Sommers.

"So…" Fey began. "Start from the beginning."

_There were so many times I  
>Wondered how I'd get through the night I<br>Thought I took all that I could take_

Claire was walking quickly on the sidewalk, holding her white chinchilla stole around her neck, holding the phone against her ear. After a few rings, the person on the other end picked up the phone.

"Jake Hunter speaking," said the voice on the other end.

"Mister Hunter, this is Claire Meade," she said.

"Miss Meade!" exclaimed the man. "What a surprise, I haven't seen you in a long time."

"Guess the lights in my house have been functioning fully well, thank you," she said, with a smile. "Jake I have a problem that I need you to solve, at Mode. It's a gl-"

She stopped, eyes wide, when she saw the person walking towards her. She recognized him immediately from the newspapers, and forgetting the person waiting on the other end she snapped the phone shut. The man walked past her, and she turned to follow him with her gaze. Before he was too distant, she called after him.

"Sawyer?"

The man stopped, pulling at the leash in his hand. Hudson stopped too and looked around, wondering why his walk had been interrupted. Sawyer looked at the woman who had called him, not recognizing a familiar face. "Yes ma'am?"

Claire put on a smile and drew closer to the man, stretching her arm out. "I'm sorry, you don't know me of course. I'm Claire Meade."

Sawyer shook her hand kindly, with the bright smile he never denied to anyone. "Meade? As in..related to Daniel Meade?" he asked.

Claire nodded. "Yes," she said, nodding. "I'm his mother. And Wilhelmina's friend."

"Oh, so you're the Claire she mentions from time to time," Sawyer exclaimed. Hudson, meanwhile, walked up to Claire and began to sniff her feet. "I thought you were a friend or something, she always speaks highly of you. I never thought she would still be in contact with, you know…"

"Her ex husband's mother?" Claire offered. "Yes, I know. Wilhelmina and I have had a…peculiar relationship, throughout the years. Ours is not what you would consider an ordinary in-laws relationship." Feeling the cool feeling on her leg, Claire looked down and saw the little dog licking her. "Hey, you're Hudson, aren't you?"

The puppy looked up and yapped, wagging its tail furiously.

"That would be him," Sawyer said, with a proud smile. "Well, Miss Meade, it's been a pleasure, but I really have to take this little one back home, before Mommy starts worrying."

Claire tilted her head, taken aback. "Oh, ok…" she trailed off, looking surprised. "Tell _Mommy…_Tell her I said hi."

"Will do, Ma'am," he exclaimed, and pulling lightly at the leash the tall, handsome man and the small dog walked away, leaving Claire in the middle of the sidewalk, confused and concerned, her phone call long forgotten.

_I didn't know my own strength  
>And I crashed down, and I tumbled<br>But I did not crumble_

Wilhelmina took a deep breath and let her mind wander back to how it had all began, to the first time she'd actually seen more of him, than the young, spoilt brat she'd been used to considering him.

"It started four years ago. Daniel and I were…sharing the company. And it was bad, really bad. Imagine me and you, only ten times worse, because this time Daniel and I shared not only Mode, but Meade too. It was constant battle of power, it was frustrating, but at the same time it was enflaming, challenging, exciting. Every time I would step into that office, I would be drowned with scenarios in which I could humiliate him and belittle him. It was addictive."

Fey chuckled. "That's the Wilhelmina I know."

Wilhelmina snorted, and shrugged. "Then, this one night…we went out. Together. A date, or something. By accident, we were paired up by a dating service. We found ourselves stuck together on a boat. We had to cooperate, we had to be a team. And it worked. After that night, we parted ways serenely, thinking it would be the start of a new partnership, maybe based on something we had never tried."

"Like?"

"Trust."

Fey nodded. "The old trust," she said. "Always manages to put you in the worst situations."

"Yes," Wilhelmina said, shaking her head. "We started to spend more time together in the same room, without wanting to slit each other's throat. I started to listen to what he had to say, and he began to trust my decisions. It was a first, for both of us. We were developing the closest thing to a friendship the two of us could hope for."

"And then?" Fey asked.

"Then…I don't know when it changed. I don't know when he started to see me differently, but he did. I think he got sucked into his own feelings, and he fell deep into a trap I hadn't meant to prepare. He started to like me. He liked me, and he tried to hide it at first, but you know how these things work. The more you hide it, the more they eat you from inside."

Wilhelmina fell silent for a moment, and Fey allowed her that moment.

"Anyway," she reprised. "You know better than anyone what a working relationship can turn into if you spend too much time together. I don't remember when it happened, but it did. And he got attached. At first, I thought of it as a fling. Then, I started to consider it a casual, convenient liaison. But after months of putting up with my shit, he got tired. And he gave me an ultimatum. As I said, he was involved, deeply. I dare say he was falling in love, or maybe he had already, I don't know. But he asked me to give it a go. He asked me to let him go, if I didn't feel anything at all. I couldn't. Let him go, I mean. I couldn't let him go, because we had a good thing going, and I wasn't sure of my feelings. So I postponed my decision until he couldn't stand it anymore and he got really, _really_mad. That's when I told him we might give it a go."

Fey interrupted her. "How many months?"

"Ten," Wilhelmina told her. "I know now it wasn't nearly enough, to really know a person. I wish I'd waited, I wish I'd asked for more time. I wish so many things, but that's all in the past." She paused, looking down, bitterly. "We had been officially together for one year and a half, or so, when he proposed. By then, I'd fallen for the _young boy charm,_the idea that the villain might indeed live the fairytale. I believed he could be the one, I believed everything we'd been through had to be a test, and because we passed it without killing each other, it only meant we had to be together. I don't know Fey, I just lost any sort of contact with reality, because if I had been realistic I would have realize a long time ago, way before this shit started, that people like me and Daniel are not destined to live fairytales. Not together, at least."

Whatever she was about to say went forgotten when the two women heard the noise of a key turning into the keyhole, and the doorknob turned slowly. They stopped breathing for a second, when the tall, blond, muscular man stepped over the threshold, with Hudson yapping happily behind him.

"Hey there," he said, winking at Wilhelmina. Then, with a nod of his head, he greeted Fey. "Hello Ma'am, just pretend I'm not here, I didn't mean to disturb."

Sawyer patted his leg and walked away, headed for the bathroom, Hudson waggling goofily behind him.

Wilhelmina and Fey stood up as soon as the bathroom door closed, and they looked at each other, panic in their eyes.

"He doesn't know who you are," Wilhelmina exclaimed.

"He doesn't know who I am?"

"You have to go!"

"I have to go!" Fey repeated, again.

"Stop repeating everything I say!" Wilhelmina hissed, verging on hysteria. The two women ran to the door and Wilhelmina snatched Fey's coat and thrust it in her arms, opening the door and pushing her out.

"We're not done, Wilhelmina," Fey hissed.

"Yes, but not with Sawyer in the house!" she exclaimed. "I'll talk with Claire. She'll arrange a meeting. We can talk then."

She moved to close the door, but Fey stopped it with her hand, pushing it lightly back. "It's not true."

"What?"

"You didn't lose contact with reality," she said. "You just fell in love."

Wilhelmina was about to reply when she heard Sawyer's voice drawing closer, and instead she just slammed the door shut, turning on her heels in time to see Sawyer and Hudson coming back into the room.

"You didn't have to get rid of her just because I'm here," he said.

"Oh, it's ok, we were done anyway," she said, stuttering to find composure. "So, how was the walk?"

Sawyer narrowed his eyes. "It was a walk," he stated, chuckling. "Oh!" he said, remembering his meeting. "I met your husband's mother. She says hi."

"You met Claire?" Wilhelmina asked, and followed him into the kitchen. "What did she say?"

"Nothing really," he said, shrugging and opening the fridge. "Just usual, awkward chit chat."

"Awkward?" Wilhelmina questioned.

"Yeah, she was not at ease," he said, closing the fridge again. "This thing needs to be filled," he said, pointing at it.

"Yes, yes, Martha Stewart," Wilhelmina said. "What do you mean awkward?" she kept inquiring.

"You know, she was dying to ask if the stuff in the papers was true."

He circled the counter and came to stand before her, leaning his side against the counter and folding his arms, the movement highlighting the muscles in his arms. He looked down on her, with that smile that made her knees go weak.

"What?" she asked, uncomfortable.

"Is it true?" he asked, with a small shrug. "Am I your rebound guy?"

Wilhelmina gasped. "What! No, of course - I mean… we're not even - Oh get over yourself."

She looked at him and noticed the twitch in his lips, understanding he was suppressing a full on laughter.

"You're pulling my leg," she stated, shaking her head.

He snorted. "Of course I am," he said, with a wink. "Plus, to be a rebound guy we would have to go at least to third base ."

Wilhelmina rolled her eyes and turned her back on him, walking away.

When she reached the dining room, again, her eyes fell on the yellow envelope she'd tried to ignore, and she knew there was something that needed to be done.

_I got through all the pain  
>I didn't know my own strength<br>Survived my darkest hour  
>My faith kept me alive<br>I picked myself back up  
>Hold my head up high<em>

On the landing, Daniel stared at the door. He had his keys, in his hand, but found himself scared to open the door to what had been his home for the past two years. Afraid of what he would find inside, afraid of the person he would find inside, afraid of the person he loved and what he might see in her eyes if he'd stopped long enough to read through them.

So, he rang the bell. He rang the bell to his motherfucking house, and it felt like a freaking joke just thinking about it.

He heard the noises coming from the inside, then silence. He knew she was there, behind the door, breathing in and out, taking her time to open the door to the person who had hurt her like no one had ever had.

The door opened up and he looked into her eyes. "Hey," he whispered. "I got your text."

Wilhelmina nodded and stepped aside letting him in.

"You said you had something to tell me?" he asked, trying hard to shove away the tiny bit of hope that always came out to suggest maybe this time she would tell him she loved him, and that she forgave him.

"Yes," she said, walking past him and inviting him to follow her. He walked behind her, through the rooms that seemed so different from the rooms he'd lived in. She led him to the room that had been his studio, where most of his things had been packed and shipped to Claire's already; the day after that infamous night. In the middle of the room stood only his old desk, with a yellow envelope standing out against the dark surface of the table.

"What is that?" he asked, looking at Wilhelmina who came to a halt at the side of the desk.

"You know what those are," she said, her voice firm and controlled on the outside. He didn't miss the small, imperceptible twitch in her lips. "You need to sign, Daniel."

He walked up to the desk and took the envelope. It had been opened already, so he just lifted the flap and reached inside, taking the contents out. It was a stack of papers, he didn't even bother reading it, skimming through the last page. He looked at the spot where he was supposed to sign on and felt the sudden void in his stomach.

He put it back down, and looked at her. "I will sign," he said. "But I need time. All I'm asking is a few days, to work up the courage."

Wilhelmina looked at the papers and sighed. "It's not such a big deal."

"It is a fucking big deal," he responded, not letting his tempers flare, fighting hard against himself to keep calm. "It might not be a big deal for you, but it is for me. I need time."

Just as he turned his back on her and began to walk away, she called after him. "Don't take forever. I want my life back."

_I was not built to break  
>I didn't know my own strength<em>


	12. Goodbye To You

**Goodbye to you**

_Of all the things I believe in  
>I just want to get it over with<br>tears from behind my eyes  
>but I do not cry<br>Counting the days that past me by_

Wilhelmina wrapped her arms tighter around herself as she took in the view from her office window. Looking down on the people going about their lives, she wondered, how many of them where in her position right now. How many people were in the middle of a painful divorce, separating from the one person who they believed would never hurt them? On the flip side, how many devious souls were treading on the concrete below her, claiming to love the person who shared their home, all the while crawling into bed with another? And, of course, how many naive young fools were down there, heads clouded with illusions of perfect love and happily ever afters as they planned to promise themselves to another?

She huffed as the lights above her flickered, thankful that the electrician would fix the damned annoying glitch soon. Her gaze didn't shift from the hurrying masses below as she felt a presence beside her.

"You really are miles away, I did knock." Claire mirrored her position, arms folded, staring down on the street.

"I take it he's home with you?" Her eyes were glazed and voice monotonic as she subconsciously followed a young couple with her stare, as they wove throughout the throngs on the sidewalk.

"He is; does this mean we're back on opposite sides again?"

"I thought this wasn't about sides anymore?"

Claire smirked, lifting her eyes to look at their reflections in the glass. "It's not, I still believe that; but I know you and Daniel don't. You think I'm on his side because he's my son and he thinks I'm on your side because...well, he just does."

With a real physical effort, Wilhelmina stopped her examination of the commuters below and met Claire's eyes in the reflection of the glass. "Why would he think that?"

"Because I refused to do what he asked me."

"Which was?"

Claire took a deep breath. "To find out exactly what's going on between you and a certain Southerner."

Wilhelmina turned quickly, to stare at Claire's profile. "Is that why you're here now?"

Claire moved slowly, weary at being in the middle of the couple. "No, I told him, it's no business of ours. But I did tell him you wouldn't be that tacky, that when it comes to your marriage you wouldn't stoop that low; you wouldn't jump into something new while this is still going on. I hope I'm right." She spoke softly.

"I thought you said it was none of your business." She raised one eyebrow at her mother-in-law.

"It's not, that doesn't mean I can't be concerned." She swallowed. "Daniel told me you have the papers."

"And did he tell you he won't sign?"

Claire nodded. "Give him time, what's the rush, the end result will still be the same?"

"I just...Claire I just want it done, I don't..." She stopped.

"What?" Claire pushed her.

Wilhelmina looked straight into the older woman's eyes, holding her gaze; "I don't want to be his wife anymore."

Claire smiled. "I'm glad you find it amusing." Willie snapped.

"You know, most people, when they're lying, they dart their eyes away, refuse to hold contact. You, on the other hand, overcompensate; you make sure your eyes never waver...just like you did there."

Wilhelmina swallowed and decided to change the subject, unwilling to hear yet another spiel about how she still cared for Daniel. "Fey came to see me, Sawyer saw her."

"WHAT!"

"Calm down, he has no idea who she is, but we got interrupted, didn't get to finish our happy little reunion chat. She wants you to arrange a time and a place to meet, don't worry if you can't, I'd much rather she went back to being dead."

"What did she tell you?"

"Very little." Willie replied, folding her arms again. "Just wanted to know about how Daniel and I ended up married instead of killing each other."

"No wonder you didn't get finished, you need three days to give your back story justice." Claire smiled. "You should hear her out Wilhelmina, come to my house and meet her, what harm can it do?"

Wilhelmina huffed. "Fine, when?"

"Well, it will have to be after the retreat."

"Ah yes." Willie walked around to stand behind her chair. "The retreat."

"That's actually the reason I came to talk to you." Claire broached the subject carefully. "I know you said you would be attending, but we all know how much you hate these forced get-togethers and considering the circumstances; no one will blame you if you don't want –"

"I'll be there." Wilhelmina cut her off.

"You will?"

Wilhelmina nodded curtly, "I will, I won't have people think I am abandoning my duties because of a little bump in my personal life."

"A bump? Wilhelmina, you're getting divorced, that's more than a bump."

"Whatever." She shook her head. "I'll be there."

_I've been searching deep down in my soul  
>Words that I'm hearing are starting to get old<br>Looks like I'm starting all over again  
>The last three years were just pretend and I say<em>

"Oh my God! He's so cute!" Betty squealed as the puppy came padding into the spare room, tongue lolling and tail swishing madly.

She got down on her knees and immediately the dog began to bound madly around her as she laid her palms flat on the floor and then pulled them away before Hudson could pounce on them, he yapped happily, enjoying the little game.

"Yeah, I'm gonna miss that little guy." Marc spoke as he moved around the room, putting his possessions back in his Berkin bag. Since Daniel had now removed himself from the apartment and Wilhelmina seemed more focussed than ever about getting her life back on track, there was no real need for him to be staying there. He was moving back to Amanda's, he wasn't quite sure how he felt about it; wasn't sure if he was ready to integrate fully back into her life, wasn't sure what it meant for his relationship with Willie and wasn't sure if Willie really was as ready to be alone as she thought she was.

Betty was so enamoured with the puppy in front of her she didn't notice the approaching figure until it was right in front of her. She found herself staring at a pair of scuffed leather boots, her eyes travelled up the khaki clad legs onto a toned torso, straining through a white T-shirt with a faded denim shirt open on top of it. Still on the floor on her knees, she couldn't help her mouth dropping open when her line of sight finally fell on the brilliant smile shining down on her, the smile that was nestled upon the most handsome, rugged face she had ever seen. His blonde hair obscured part of his face but Betty could still see the azure eyes twinkling as he grinned down on her.

"Well looks like Hudson's made yet another friend." He chuckled and stretched out his hand. "Good to meet ya, I'm Sawyer."

Betty lifted her hand to his and allowed him to pull her to her feet as he shook her hand in greeting. "B...Be...Betty." She stammered, going red.

"It's a pleasure B...Be...Betty." He grinned wider, making her heart do strange things, before he turned his attention to Marc. "You leavin' us Marc?"

Marc stopped packing and faced Sawyer, Betty noticed his eyes did a quick sweep of his body as he did so. "Yeah, it's time for me to go home to my humble abode."

"That's too bad. Hudson's gotten rather fond of you. Well, I'm sorry I interrupted you, was just trying to catch this little guy for his walk." He bent down and clipped the leash on the puppy and took him from the room, not before given one last smile over his shoulder, making both Betty and Marc sigh. Once they heard the sound of the apartment door close, Betty spun round on Marc.

"THAT'S Sawyer!"

Marc nodded as he carefully folded what seemed to Betty like the thirtieth ascot, and grinned. "He's something isn't he? Why Wilhelmina doesn't want to get over Daniel by getting _under_ him is beyond me."

"THAT'S SAWYER!" She repeated, pointing vaguely in the direction the man had just left.

Marc chuckled. "I told you, if he were gay...in fact screw it, he might just be worth getting a sex change for."

Betty was still staring out in the hall, face flushed. "I gotta get a dog."

"You live in London."

"I'll move back."

The two of them laughed as Marc fastened the zip on his bag. "Well that's me, we should go before Willie gets back from the office; she doesn't do goodbyes." He started walking past her but she grabbed his arm.

"Wait." Marc stopped and pivoted to face her. "We need to talk about Amanda."

"What about her?"

She sighed and sat down on the end of the bed, tugging Marc's arm to make him sit next to her. "I think she's clinging to something that isn't there."

"Her reputation?" Marc joked.

"I think...I think she's romanticising what happened between her and Daniel. She's mad at Wilhelmina for.."

"Wait _she's_ mad at Willie? What the hell does she have to be mad about?"

Betty squeezed Marc's arm, trying to calm him and keep his attention. "She destroyed her career Marc, her livelihood. In the space of hours she ruined all that Amanda had worked for."

"In the space of minutes Amanda ruined Wilhelmina's marriage."

Betty closed her eyes, searching for a way for Marc to see Amanda's point of view, but she couldn't find it, truthfully she was finding it hard to understand, herself. "Regardless Marc, I think she might see the divorce coming through as some sort of green light for her and Daniel."

Marc inhaled deeply and stared at the floor. "Let her."

"What!"

He looked up and her and shrugged. "Let her, if she's really that deluded then let her get him, they'd be a match made in heaven. Maybe it would finally make Wilhelmina see he's not worth pining over, she can do better." Marc stood from the bed and walked to the door, leaving a dumbfounded Betty still perched on the bed.

"I'll tell you one thing though." He said from the threshold. "If she takes him..."

He turned slowly and Betty couldn't read the expression in his eyes. "She loses me."

_Goodbye to you  
>Goodbye to everything I thought I knew<br>You were the one I loved  
>The one thing that I tried to hold on to<em>

The next morning, Saturday, Daniel was awake and lying perfectly still in the centre of the bed in his mother's guest room. He truly didn't feel as if he had the energy to pull himself from the mattress and go through another day without her. Every day he spent away from her, was a day closer to her demanding he sign the papers.

His mother had already tried to get him out the bed and downstairs on three occasions. He had ignored her attempts of course, the only words he had uttered to her had been "I'm sorry." She had known he was referring to his outburst in the office the other day, she had not taken the matter further, merely leaned over the bed and kissed the top of his head.

He brought his hands to his face and ground the heels of his palms into his eyes, trying to wake up and shake off the funk he was in. He thought time was supposed to make these situations better, not worse. He had only been staying with his mother for 3 days and yet they had been 3 of the darkest days he had since his marriage had started dissolving. When he was in the house, the atmosphere may have been unbearable and seeing the way the newcomer looked at his wife tortured him, yet it was nothing compared to the images his mind insisted on conjuring every time he closed his eyes.

There was yet another knock at the door, he pulled the covers over his head as the door opened, he knew he was being pathetic, but he didn't care, he needed a few days of self pity, no-one else was giving it to him.

He felt the duvet being tugged at the foot of the bed and twisted his hands in it tighter to stop it being ripped from his body. "Mom, quit it! I am not a little boy you have to get up for school."

"No you're a big baby who is in desperate need a wash, a meal and a talking to. Two out of three you can get courtesy of my father."

Daniel, surprised by the voice, relinquished his hold on the cover and shivered as it was whipped from him. "Betty?"

"OHMYGOD!" She squeezed her eyes closed and turned away. "Daniel! Boxers! Trousers! Anything!"

Daniel looked down at himself and jumped from the bed, pulling on the discarded suit trousers by the side of the bed. "It's safe." He mumbled.

Betty turned back around and peeked through barely open eyelids, when she saw it was, indeed, safe, she opened her eyes fully. "Ok, moving on, removing from memory, get washed."

"Why?"

"Well number one, you stink and number two my dad obviously didn't do as good a job pepping you up as I thought he would the first time. Time to give it another go."

Daniel stood in front of the mirror and pulled at the skin on his cheeks, examining his tired eyes. "No offense Betty, but I really don't need your father to be my divorce Sherpa."

"Just get washed and dressed and I'll sort some breakfast for you."

"No Betty." He huffed.

"I will tell everyone I saw you naked...and I will NOT be generous, if you get what I mean."

He looked at her through the mirror and narrowed his eyes. "I'll be with you in half an hour."

_I still get lost in your eyes  
>And it seems like I can't live a day without you<br>Closing my eyes till you chase my thoughts away  
>To a place where I am blinded by the light but it's not right<em>

Wilhelmina stretched languidly in the bed which felt far too big for just her, she was still unaccustomed to waking up alone, still expected to be face to face with a drooling, snoring body next to her. In fairness, there was still a drooling, snoring body next to her, but Hudson took up a lot less room than Daniel. As if sensing she was awake, the puppy sleepily opened its eyes and immediately brightened when he saw his owners eyes staring back.

He stood up on the pillow and padded towards her head, tongue hanging out he moved his little muzzle towards her face.

"Don't" She warned in a threatening voice, pointing at the dog and then smiled when he rolled his tongue back in and sat contentedly on the pillow, his tail thumping against it.

Wilhelmina leaned her head back against the pillow and groaned. Why did she give Sawyer weekends off and why did Marc choose last night of all nights to go home? This dog was gonna need walking and she was NOT the dog walking type.

_I wonder if tying his leash to the treadmill counts as exercise._

Just as she was rationalising that it wouldn't technically be animal cruelty if she put it on a really low setting, she was disturbed by the sound of her door opening. She sat up and placed the dog on the floor, she was half tempted to reach for her baseball bat in case it was an intruder and the other half was tempted to reach for it anyway because she was sure it was Daniel.

"Huuuudson." The dog's ears pricked up as it recognised the voice and scampered excitedly to the sound, tumbling out the door and out of sight.

Wilhelmina reached for her robe and pulling it on she headed out to find, who she knew was now certainly, Sawyer. When she spied him in her hallway, bent down moving his hands furiously along the carpet, playing with Hudson, she stopped and cocked her head to the side. He looked up, still playing with the dog and smiled at her.

"Mornin' now that ain't no happy face, is it Hudson? I don't think she's pleased to see me, do you?"

"What are you doing here? I thought you didn't work weekends."

He stood and shrugged, pulling a treat from his pocket and throwing it into the corner for the dog to chase after. "I don't, but I know Marc went home yesterday and somehow I don't see you strappin' on your Choo choos and taking Hudson to the park."

She laughed. "Strapping on my what?"

He looked at her puzzled. "Never mind," she waved a hand at him. "So you're going to walk him for me then?"

He shook his head. "No, _we_ are."

"I'm not."

"You are." He continued grinning and she knew she would give in, she'd give him a goddamn lung if he asked when he smiled like that.

"I can't, I'm depressed, I'm oh so distraught and can't face it." She tried, feebly.

"Aw...pity...clothes, now." He drawled.

"Fine," She huffed, "Just let me go strap on my Choo choos." She walked back into her bedroom laughing at him.

"What's so funny?" He called after her. "I don't get it."

"No...you really don't do you?" She called in the distance, Sawyer could hear the light tone in her voice.

He bent down to scratch Hudson who was happily chewing on the treat he provided. "So whaddya think little guy, you settlin' in here? You like her yet?"

The dog looked up at him with big questioning eyes and licked his hand before returning all his attention to the chew. Sawyer ruffled the fur on the puppy's head.

"Yeah." He whispered, "Me too."

_Goodbye to you  
>Goodbye to everything I thought I knew<br>You were the one I loved  
>The one thing that I tried to hold on to<em>

Claire watched the maid strip the bed Daniel had been using since his stay in the house, watching over them gave her the illusion she was contributing something. Satisfied that she had spent adequate time with the help that they wouldn't view her as just another rich bitch, she made her way downstairs and felt her legs almost give way beneath her and tumble to the bottom when she saw the haunting eyes peering at her over the top of large rimmed sunglasses.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" She hissed as she hurried down the remaining steps.

Fey smiled and clasped her hands over her crossed legs. "Relax dear, you haven't changed your routine in 40 years, I know the staff are upstairs."

"How did you even get in?"

"You haven't changed the locks or security codes either." She smiled, wickedly.

"He gave you access to our home?" Claire asked; incredulous and hurt by the revelation.

"And more." Her grin widened to show her teeth. "Anyway we need to talk."

"About what now? You have another illegitimate child threatening to screw up my family?"

"Ah Claire, your humour always was so very basic wasn't it." Fey stood up and walked into the imposing drawing room, without invitation.

Claire reluctantly followed her through, giving one last glance upstairs to where she knew her maids were still working. When she entered the room she saw Fey standing facing her large fireplace, studying the family photos that adorned the mantle above it.

"What are you doing here? This is dangerous Fey!"

Fey turned to face her and whipped of her glasses, "I need answers."

"_You,_the woman who faked her own death and was happy to see me rot for her murder, you need answers?"

"I don't understand any of this."

"For God sake keep your voice down! Any of what?"

Fey gestured around herself. "This, all of it! Wilhelmina gave me some hazy bullshit answers, but NONE of it makes sense. I can just about wrap my head around the fact that she married your idiot son but-" She grabbed one of the photographs from the mantle and thrust it into Claire's hands. "I need to know how THIS happened."

Claire sighed as she looked down at the smiling face of her son on his wedding day, next to the last person she had ever thought would be his bride; and beside them both stood a smiling Claire and Alexis. She looked up at Fey.

"Sit down, I'll get you a drink."

_Ohhh yeah  
>It hurts to want everything<em>

_and nothing at the same time_

Did Justin know he was coming or did he always just wear those shirts? Daniel thought as he walked inside Betty's family home and the flamboyant teen waltzed past him in a shirt which read. _N.Y.P.D: New York Pig Detector,_with a dodgy silhouette of Daniel's face below it. Hilda passed him next and squeezed his bicep. "Pay no attention, he loves a good scandal, Lohan will be back in rehab next week and he'll have her face across his chest."

Daniel smiled weakly at her as Betty nudged him in the back, forcing him through into the kitchen. "Hilda, I thought I would come with you and Justin to his audition."

Hilda shrugged, looking at Daniel. "Sure."

"You're not bringing him are you? I don't need his chauvinistic vibes throwing off my performance." Justin bitched from the table.

"No." Came a wise voice from behind Daniel and he felt a hand clap on his shoulder. "Daniel's going to help me with some stuff around here."

"Good." Justin bounced up and pulled his coat from off the back of the seat. On his way past, he linked arms with his mother and aunt and shouted over his shoulder. "Don't let him touch my stuff!"

The door slammed and Ignacio smiled at Daniel, who half –heartedly tried to return it. "You know, whenever I'm missing Willie I can just come here and get Justin to shout at me, feels like home."

"So you're still missing her huh?" Ignacio pulled out a chair and sat down, Daniel followed suit.

"No offense Mr Suarez, but that's a pretty dumb question."

The old man held a hand out in front of him and nodded. "You're right, why?"

Daniel scrunched up his face. "What do you mean why? She's my wife, we should be together."

"Why? Because of some piece of paper, do you miss her because it's what's expected of you? What exactly do you miss about her? From what you said, you had been unhappy for a long time."

Daniel shook his head, feeling, for the first time, angry with the man he held in such high regard. "We would have worked through it, every couple has rough patches."

"You didn't answer me, what do you miss about her?"

Daniel threw his hands up and leaned back in the chair. "Everything, I miss waking up with her, I miss going to sleep with her, I miss her voice, the way she smells, the way she feels."

Daniel was too lost in his tirade to notice Ignacio smiling at him. "I miss fighting with her, I miss making up with her, I miss holding her, I miss the flip I still get in my stomach every time I hear her _truly_ laugh. I miss who I am when I'm with her."

Ignacio nodded, still smiling. "That's a lot of stuff to miss."

Daniel put his head down in his hands. "Tell me about it."

Ignacio walked to the stove and poured two cups of coffee, he placed one in front of Daniel and leaned into his ear, placing his hand on his shoulder.

"I'm going to tell you a story."

_I want whats yours and I want whats mine  
>I want you but I'm not giving in this time<em>

Marc had unpacked last night while Amanda was in the tub and by the time she came out he was in bed. He was standing behind his door now, fully dressed and about to go out and face his roommate and best friend. He still wasn't sure how to play the situation, should he go in for another lecture? Should he ignore her until she made the first move? He chose option 3; complete and utter denial.

"Good morning Manda-Panda, I hope you made pancakes." He smiled as he opened the door with a flourish.

She sat at the table and tilted her head towards him. "Morning? Marc it's almost dinner time, you've been in there all day deciding how to talk to me."

His smile fell. "Oh...oh...well...you see..."

She smiled at him. "At least you're out now. You still want pancakes?"

He walked towards the table and pulled out a chair. "Are you kidding woman? Make me a flirtini."

"Oh thank God." She stood hurriedly and opened the fridge, pulling a pitcher of the cocktail from its depths and producing two frosted glasses.

Marc clapped as she poured him a glass and smiled around the rim of the glass as he brought it to his lips and drank deeply. Amanda toyed with the little umbrella she had placed in her drink and rested her head on her hand. "Marc, you know I'm sorry right?"

Marc shook his head vigorously. "No Mandy, we're not talking about this. I know you're sorry, you know you're sorry, I think the only one who doesn't is Betty."

"What do you mean?"

Marc shrugged. "Okay, but that's it, after this we're done talking about it. She thinks you might be having some sort of unrequited lusting after Daniel." He laughed, but looked out the corner of his eyes to gauge her reaction.

When she swirled the umbrella in her drink faster and dipped her head, Marc looked up. "Mandy, tell me she's wrong. Amanda!"

Amanda stayed silent. "Amanda come on! Tell me that when this divorce is final, you're not going to chase after the man who put me in between the two most important people in my life. You wouldn't do that to-"

Amanda stood up from the table abruptly. "To who Marc? To Wilhelmina? That woman destroyed my career, she uses everyone around her and she doesn't care who suffers for her actions. Maybe it's about time she got what she deserved."

Marc stood up, slowly, coming into her eye-line. "Actually, I was going to say; you wouldn't do that to me. If your sad little delusions became real...you really think Wilhelmina would really be able to be around me if she knew I was living with the woman who was now sleeping with the love of her life? You end up with Daniel and I have to make a choice."

"We've been friends since, like, forever Marc, it wouldn't be much of a choice would it?"

He shook his head sadly. "No it wouldn't, but it wouldn't be you."

_Goodbye to you  
>Goodbye to everything I thought I knew<em>

"Ow, ow, ow, ow, Mother of GOD, OW!"

"Well what do you expect when you take a dog for a walk in five inch heels?" Sawyer laughed, supporting Wilhelmina as they made their way back inside the lounge in her apartment.

"I've spent 20 hour days at the office wearing these. I'm used to it." She grimaced as she sat down, and pulled the shoes from her feet. "Oh thank God!" She exclaimed, rubbing them.

"Well I doubt your office has terrain quite like the park, you should invest in a pair of sneakers for taking Hudson out."

She stopped her ministrations on her feet and shot him a look. "In what reality do you think I would put sneakers on my feet? Anyway you said we were going for a walk, not a cross country hike!"

"We haven't been out that long." He laughed at her sullenness.

"We've been out all day!"

"Actually, I didn't get here until nearly eleven, you took two hours trying to find an outfit that would look good against the colours in the park. You made us stop at least eight times, so technically we've only been walking for a couple of hours."

"Thank you Father Time." She looked at Hudson, who was coming in and out of sight as he darted up and down her hallway. "How the hell is he not tired? He's tiny, he should be passed out in his basket."

Sawyer slumped next to her on the couch. "He's a Labrador Wilhelmina, they tend not to know their limits, he'll keep running 'til he collapses with exhaustion." He grinned as he bent forward and grabbed her ankles, swinging her feet into his lap. "And who are you kidding, basket? I know you let that critter sleep in your bed. I should warn you, it's dangerous, he may not like it when the time comes for you to share it with someone else."

"What are you doing?" She asked as she watched his fingers move over her feet, easing the ache.

He smiled at her. "Just shut up and let me help woman."

_You were the one I loved  
>The one thing that I tried to hold on to<br>The one thing that I tried to hold on to_

Claire had dismissed all of the remaining staff from the house and she and Fey sat opposite each other in high backed arm chairs, either side of the fire. "I'm sure Wilhelmina told you everything you need to know." Claire snapped.

"No, she didn't, but we'll get to that the next time I see her. What I'm more interested in is; knowing why you, of all people, seem to be on exceedingly friendly terms with her."

"She married my son, I have to be."

Fey leaned forward in the chair. "No, that only means you have to tolerate her. I can't, for the life of me, fathom how you two could ever have formed a friendship."

Claire took a drink and looked to the side. "I've watched her, I've seen her struggle to be something other than the relentless bitch you made her. I've watched her try and try again to prove to everyone that she was capable of loving my son the way he deserved."

"But this is Wilhelmina Slater we're talking about, she-" Fey began, exasperated.

"I told you!" Claire cut her off. "You don't know her anymore."

"And you do?"

Claire nodded. "She's changed, not in every respect I grant you, but there was no way I would have sat back and watched Daniel marry her if I thought it was all a lie."

"You know, when I came back; when I first saw her alone, I was waiting for her to tell me that this was all some great big scam; that she had set out for this all along. Marry Daniel, put temptation in his path, get a bigger stake in Meade."

"And?" Claire raised her eyebrow, knowing the answer already.

"All I saw was an ordinary woman, in love and heartbroken. The Wilhelmina I knew was never an ordinary woman."

Claire chuckled. "Oh there are still some elements of the extraordinary."

"She's dangerous Claire." Fey's tone changed ominously.

"Oh Fey, you always were one for the dramatics."

She leaned forward further. "CLAIRE! Right now, yes, she is heart-broken, but if our children do indeed seek solace in each other then she will eventually get past that and want nothing more than revenge. Now I could care less about Daniel but I did not make sure I could watch Amanda from afar just to watch her be second fiddle and play straight into Wilhelmina's clutches."

"You're getting ahead of yourself."

"You think we can afford to take the risk? You do remember how calculating she can be? How intelligent and conniving? Claire, I tried for TWENTY YEARS to get Bradford to divorce you, she managed it in what, three months?"

Claire looked away again, not wanting to revisit her daughter-in-law's past with her own husband, a period in their lives they never alluded to if they wanted to maintain the relationship they had built. But Fey was right, Wilhelmina was capable of anything and if Daniel really was stupid enough to be with Amanda once the divorce came through, he was putting himself right in the firing line.

"What do you suggest we do?" Claire asked.

"I need to see my daughter."

_Goodbye to you  
>Goodbye to everything I thought I knew<em>

Daniel was leaning on the table, his elbows propped against it and his hands cupping his face, listening as Ignacio talked wistfully about his wife.

"When Rosa and I first came to this country, things were hard, we had left our home under a cloud, shall we say. When you're in such a stressful situation, the little things suddenly become huge, every minor disagreement becomes a tempestuous, fiery, argument. We had been here for three months; had no money, I couldn't afford to give Rosa the wedding she deserved."

"But you obviously did, everything worked out." Daniel said, hanging on the man's every word.

"Eventually, but there was a point when I couldn't see how we were going to make it through, it was just us. We weren't married, we didn't have the girls yet, sometimes we wondered what the hell we were fighting for."

"So what got you through?"

Ignacio smiled. "When I looked into the future, a day, a month, a year; all I saw was her face. Without her everything felt empty, I think you know how that feels."

Daniel nodded, wide eyed as Ignacio continued. "So one afternoon, we had had a huge fight in the morning, I realised; to hell with it, we don't need the fanfare, the spectacle of a big wedding to prove we loved each other. I went out then and there bought everything we needed to have a little wedding of our own. I blew what little money we had getting her the most expensive ring I could afford, still cheap by your standards I'd imagine."

"So she said yes?"

Ignacio laughed. "Not right away, she had a stubborn head on those shoulders, it's where my girls get it from. She made me work for it."

"So what? You think I should get Wilhelmina something to show her how much I love her? The woman has every material possession she could possibly ever want."

"No, from what I've heard about your wife she doesn't seem the type you can baksheesh into loving you."

"What?"

"Bribe Daniel." He laughed. "Sorry I'm hooked on the history channel; anyway, I don't think you can buy back your wife's love."

"Is...is that what you're saying you did?" He asked tentatively, not wanting to insult the man.

Ignacio picked up on his cautious tone. "No, the ring was merely a symbol. What I did was; I didn't take no for an answer."

Daniel perked up. "You're right, every time we've talked about this, I've backed down. I've let my guilt pull me under and I've relented every single time." He spoke faster, getting excited. "I'm gonna make her see, anything it takes, I'll do it. I'm not letting her give up."

He looked Betty's father in the eye and smiled. "I'm getting her back."

Ignacio leaned across the table, a smile in those wise old eyes. "What are you telling me for?"

_You were the one I loved  
>The one thing that I tried to hold on to<em>

"Better?" Sawyer asked her.

She stretched her feet in his lap. "Much." She said quietly, moving them off his body and back onto the floor.

An awkward silence fell between them, they sat side by side staring forward. "You know Sawyer-"

"Well I guess-" They suddenly spoke at the same time.

Sawyer chuckled. "You go."

She bit her lip. "I was just going to say that you weren't scheduled to work today, I'd hate to be keeping you from something."

Sawyer nodded. "Yeah, I was just going to say I should be heading off I guess." He stood up and walked to the door, his smile not quite reaching his eyes.

Wilhelmina watched him go and then turned to face forward again, sighing at the sudden sensation of loneliness that once again engulfed her. Her head whipped around suddenly and she smiled when she felt the sofa give way next to her and she saw Sawyer once again sat next to her.

He looked at her and grinned. "I figured that Hudson is gonna need walked again tonight and I doubt you'll be willing or able to walk further than a block."

"You figured correctly."

The smile on his face widened. "Now seen as I ain't gettin' paid for this overtime, I'd say I'm owed a drink."

"You know you're one of the very few people who can get away with talking to me like that." She narrowed her eyes, but her tone was jocular.

"I guess I should count myself lucky then?"

"Very."

xXx

"So, that's it, me and you. We're worth more than this. I know I was wrong, I'm more than ready to accept that. I will do anything, ANYTHING it takes to show you how much I love you and how sorry I am. I'm not leaving here until you agree to try and work through this. We owe it to ourselves." Daniel cleared his throat, "What do you think?"

The man driving his cab leaned back in the seat. "I dunno buddy, you seem a little desperate."

"I am, that's the point of this cross-city cab race. Why do you think I paid you an extra fifty dollars to hurry?"

"Make it a hundred and I'll go faster, give you some tips on what the ladies like to hear too." The man grinned.

"I doubt your pick up lines will work on my wife, she's not your average lady." He cleared his throat and smirked. "You ever hear of Wilhelmina Slater?"

The driver looked in the rear-view mirror. "Shit dude, my wife reads all sortsa stuff about her and that jackass who...holy shit, THAT'S your wife?"

Daniel pointed at himself. "One Jackass at your service."

"In that case, you don't sound desperate enough."

xXx

Sawyer clinked the top of his beer bottle against the rim of Wilhelmina's wine glass and drank the liquid from the neck of the bottle. Wilhelmina snapped her head away when she realised she was watching the muscles of his throat working.

"You've got a bad rep, you know, but I guess I see what some don't. You're a pussycat really." He laughed.

"No, you just haven't pissed me off yet." She smiled as she took a sip of her wine.

Sawyer looked over in the corner, where Hudson was now sleeping on his back, his four little paws twitching in the air. "I guess somebody's too wiped for their night time stroll huh?"

"Guess so." The pair once again fixed their eyes on the dog, neither wanting to look at the other.

"So I guess there's no need for me to stick around?"

"Guess not." She swallowed.

He slowly turned to look at her. "But I'd like to."

She dragged her eyes away from Hudson to meet his stare. "Me too."

xXx

Daniel threw money at the cab driver and bolted out the cab in front of their building. With a nod to the doorman, he rushed inside and jabbed the call button on the elevator, repeatedly. All the while, muttering speeches to himself, trying to work out what he was going to say to Wilhelmina. He wanted to make a grand gesture, sweep in there, rip up the divorce papers and carry her to their room.

The elevator arrived and he darted inside, staring at his reflection in the shining metal, oblivious to the people who got in the elevator with him.

"I mean it Willie, anything; counselling, couples retreats, the works; anything that will get us back on track. I can't be without you, and I know you don't really want to be without me. I love you and I will never stop fighting for you...yeah, yeah that's good Daniel, remember that one."

He took a deep breath and got out when the elevator stopped at their floor.

xXx

"Call me crazy Wilhelmina, but I like you."

"You're crazy." She breathed.

"I know." He ran a hand through his hair. "You're going through a divorce, you have all this history with Daniel. You're not in the right frame of mind to even contemplate starting something new."

"I'm not." She agreed, her eyes never leaving his as his head drew closer.

"We shouldn't do this."

"We shouldn't."

"It's stupid."

"It is."

"But God help me, I've thought of this since Marc first hired me." He whispered and took the wine glass from her hand setting it down.

xXx

Daniel opened the door of their apartment and scanned the hallway, the divorce papers were lying on a side table, he smirked and snatched them up. Part one of his grand gesture in hand, he walked further down the hall.

xXx

She felt the calluses of his fingers as his hand moved to cup her cheek and his head moved closer to hers, she felt his breath mix with hers and she realised her own breath was coming out in gasps, her chest rising and falling as she inhaled deeply in anticipation.

"Tell me if I'm going too fast." He whispered; his lips nearly on hers.

"Just stop talking." Her voice was breathy as she closed the distance between them.

xXx

"Willie, I need to talk to you about someth-"

His voice died in his throat and his hope along with it when he pushed open the door to the lounge. His presence startled the pair he had inadvertently walked in on, but what little he did see would haunt him forever; the scrambling to get up from the couch, the flushed face of his wife, her lips full from kissing; the man jumping from the couch and quickly stuffing his T-Shirt back into his pants as she straightened the outfit that was now dishevelled.

"Daniel." Wilhelmina spoke in a hushed tone.

"I...uh...I need to talk to you about something." He told her, still looking at Sawyer who was watching Wilhelmina.

Wilhelmina swallowed, wanting the ground to open up beneath her feet. She knew how Daniel felt right at this second, and she knew he was in hell. "What?"

Daniel looked between Wilhelmina and Sawyer and then down at the legal documents in his hand. All practised speeches, the planned displays of love and the fighting spirit left his body as he processed what he knew would have happened if he hadn't walked in.

"Give me a pen." He whispered.

"What?"

He looked up at his wife, whom he could call that, this one last time.

"I'll sign the papers."

_When the stars fall and I lie awake  
>You're my shooting star<em>


	13. Fix You

**Fix You**

_When you try your best, but you don't succeed  
>When you get what you want, but not what you need<em>

Sawyer shifted his gaze between the two former lovers, asking himself if he should try and give some sort of explanation for being caught like that, _in flagrante delicto_. Something told him Wilhelmina wouldn't want him to. She didn't seem like the type of person who shirked from her responsibilities, nor the kind of person who waited for others to clean up after her actions. So he stood up and bent to whisper in her ear.

"I'm going to be in the other room," he said.

Wilhelmina nodded, not taking her eyes off Daniel, who was still holding the papers and looking at her like she'd kicked Hudson out the window. Speaking of Hudson, the puppy had been awoken by Daniel's voice, and was now trying to catch the man's attention by pulling at his jeans. Daniel, however, seemed oblivious to anything, his eyes locked with Wilhelmina's, crossed by a thousand feelings she couldn't decipher right now.

On his way, Sawyer picked Hudson up, ignoring the dog's protesting barks. When he stood up, he looked at Daniel for a brief second, and took a deep breath. Ignoring whatever voice inside his head was telling him to shut up, he shook his head spoke slowly. "Look, man-"

"Sawyer." Wilhelmina's voice came as a warning from the spot on the couch where he'd left her, and he looked at her and nodded, walking away.

They both heard the noise of a door closing, down the corridor, they couldn't tell exactly which one. All they knew was they were alone.

"Daniel-"

"I'll need a pen," he repeated, putting on a small smile and walking to the counter, placing the papers down on the surface and skimming through it. He saw the spot where Wilhelmina had signed already, and tried hard to repress the need to scrunch up the papers and throw them away. He tried hard to fight the urge to throw everything around, because he knew it would only make things worse.

Wilhelmina stood up and looked around. "Daniel, look-"

"It's ok, I have a pen right here," he said, reaching into his breast pocket. He wouldn't talk about this. He would erase it from memory, just like he would erase the past two years. It couldn't be that difficult, could it? Pretend Wilhelmina Slater had never been his wife. Pretend she had always been nothing but a coworker, pretend he'd never loved her. He looked up and met the crystal blue of her eyes.

No way he could forget that.

She nodded and walked up to the counter standing next to him; both were looking down at the papers, where the tip of Daniel's pen was pressed against the thin line where he was supposed to sign on. His knuckles were white, as he held on the pen tighter than he should.

"How long?"

Wilhelmina lifted his eyes to his face, studying his profile and taking in how difficult it must be for him. She couldn't feel sorry for him, however. Not when she had gone through the same thing, or worse actually. She didn't relish in the feeling, of course, but she couldn't say she wouldn't do it again.

"A while," she said, lying. Truth be told, she had never thought Sawyer might get as far as to kiss her, like he had tonight. And she had never thought she would find herself attracted to a man so quick after Daniel's betrayal, but she had. However, if she'd said it was something that had grown in time, she would be lying. Till tonight, she had seen Sawyer as a handsome man, sure, but never had she thought she could seriously pursue the chance to be with him. And actually, that wasn't what she was doing now, either. She wasn't considering the possibility of a relationship with Sawyer, she had merely craved the human contact, she had felt the need to feel like she was somebody's light, and that was exactly what Sawyer could give her.

He made her feel exclusive, again, after Daniel had made her feel like one of many. That's what she was looking for. Feeling special, feeling worshipped.

Daniel nodded slowly, his pen still pointed against the paper, not moving. "Did you-"

"Don't ask," she cut him off, knowing exactly what he was about to ask. She didn't want him to know all about her life, now, because she knew if Daniel knew it would inhibit her. Somehow telling Daniel would give the situation a hint of reality that she wasn't looking for. Whatever happened, with Sawyer, it would not be meant to get out of those four walls.

"I have the right to know."

"You lost that right a long time ago," she said.

Daniel looked up, meeting her stare again and refusing to let go. The two stared at each other for an eternity, while Daniel still kept the pen tight in his hand. Wilhelmina looked at it, unable to maintain his glare for much longer, and drummed a finger on the surface.

"You said you were going to sign," she whispered.

Daniel swallowed and steadied the papers with a free hand, finally moving the tip of the pen on the thin line under her name. As the ink came out, Wilhelmina followed the neat line. Letter after letter, she saw his name appear on the file, and letter after letter she felt her marriage, and everything she'd done, slip through her fingers, getting lost in a sea of pain.

When he was done, he placed the pen down and took a step back.

It was gone. Everything was gone, just like that, with a little ink and a few words. Their marriage, their future, their past, all gone with the simple writing of a name. Daniel shook his head, looking at the papers, unable to convince his brain that he was no longer her husband. He didn't have the courage to walk away, he didn't have the pride to stay.

He was stuck in a limbo.

"Thank you," Wilhelmina said, snatching the papers and putting them back into the yellow folder. She turned around, facing him, and folded her arms against her chest. "That's it. You can go now."

Daniel glanced at the couch where he knew another man's hands had touched his wife. Where he knew she'd been lost in the kiss of a stranger, when he should be the only one allowed to kiss her. He felt anger surge through his body, but he knew he couldn't let it unleash in front of her. He didn't want to scare her, not again, not after what he had done the last time.

He nodded, taking in a deep breath and allowing himself to look at her one last time. Standing there, arms folded, eyes looking straight ahead of her, she was shielding herself from the pain he had caused her, and it killed him inside that he, of all people, had been the one to cause such pain. He, who was supposed to love and protect her, was the one who had messed it up, and there was no going back.

"For what it's worth…I'm really sorry," he added, one last time.

Wilhelmina scoffed and tilted her head, looking away. "I'm sure you are," she exclaimed, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

Daniel smiled, deciding he wouldn't fight back, this time. He was tired.

Taking a few steps, he reached for her, pulling her into a hug, ignoring how her hands tried to pull him away at first, noticing instead how her body relaxed after a few seconds, and how her hands pulled at his shirt instead of pushing him away. He held her tight, his stare fixed on a spot on the wall opposite him, trying to fight the tears back. He wouldn't cry again, he wouldn't be weak in front of her anymore.

"You should have thought twice," he heard her whisper.

"I know," he whispered back.

Recomposing herself, she pushed lightly against his chest, looking intensely down at the floor. He kissed the top of her head, and stepped back out of her personal space. With a last glance at her, he turned his back on her and left the room. When he reached the entrance door, his hand remained on the doorknob, uncertain of what he should do. He opened up and stepped out. Closing it lightly behind him, he walked slowly towards the elevator. He stepped in and leaned against the wall, staring ahead.

That would do, today. He wouldn't be with her, but he wouldn't be far from her. He would just stay in the elevator until he was ready to leave the building.

_When you feel so tired, but you can't sleep  
>Stuck in reverse<em>

She couldn't say how long she remained in the hall, staring down at her own feet, unable to move. Now that the divorce was final, the weight of the situation fell upon her shoulders like a ton of bricks, and it made it hard to breathe.

She knew Sawyer was waiting in the other room, but she simply couldn't bring herself to move yet. She was absorbed in what her life used to be like, till just a little more than a month before. Never, in a million years, she would have guessed she would be in this situation. She had trusted him; she had been so completely sure of her husband she hadn't taken notice of the slow degrade of their relationship.

In the same moment, as soon as the subtle guilt began creeping up on her, she shook her head violently and headed towards the room where she heard the mad yapping was coming from. She stopped in front of the mirror, leaning in to wipe the little smudge of mascara in the corner of her eye, and then opened up.

Hudson immediately sped up past her, clearly going in search of Daniel, whom the little puppy seemed to be rather fond of. Taking advantage, she closed the door before the dog could slip back in. Her eyes fell on the figure sitting on the edge of her bed, elbows on his knees, his head dipped lightly with his blonde hair covering is profile.

"Sorry for that," she said, taking a few steps forward.

Sawyer looked up and shrugged, with a small smile. She could tell something wasn't right.

"What is it?" she asked, and Sawyer stood up. Looking up at him, she took suddenly notice of how much taller he was, now that she wasn't wearing heels. "What's wrong?" she insisted.

He walked up to her and ran his hands down her arms, looking down at her body, doing all he could not to look directly in her eyes, but he couldn't for long. Wilhelmina's hand flew to his chin and forced him to look at her.

"I'm…I'm kinda glad he walked in," he admitted, drawling each word out, carefully.

Wilhelmina retrieved her hand and took a step back, lifting a finger. "Excuse me?" she said, annoyance clear in the way her jaw clenched.

"Wait, don't jump to conclusions," he said, reaching for her wrist and pulling her closer again. "I'm glad he interrupted whatever was going on. It's not that I didn't want to, but…Wilhelmina, I like you. And you're in the middle of a divorce-"

"Not anymore," she chimed in. "I'm officially divorced. For the second time."

Sawyer smiled. "Yes, whatever. What I meant is…I wanna do this right. I don't want to be a fling, and I don't want to be the guy you turn to only because you have the need to feel good about yourself again. I like you, and I want to be more than just that."

Wilhelmina looked down at her wrist, where Sawyer was still holding tight. She pulled at it, getting free from his grip, brushing past him and walking up to the window. "Go."

Sawyer rolled his eyes and turned to look at her back. "Wilhelmina, you're being childish."

"You're turning me down," she said, facing him, with her back on the window. It was pitch dark outside, the only light coming from the streetlamps many floors below. "I don't think we have anything more to discuss. You're just my dog-sitter, after all. I think it's better if we keep our relationship strictly professional."

"Super childish."

Wilhelmina narrowed her eyes. "Keep that up, and we won't have a professional relationship either. I can find another dog-sitter in the blink of an eye."

Sawyer placed his hands on his hips, growing unnerved. "You're nervous, and you're taking it out on me. I get it. Therefore, I'll go now, but I'll be back tomorrow morning and we'll talk about this."

"You can't boss me around, Sawyer," Wilhelmina snapped. "Now go, before I fire you." With that last sentence, she spun around and faced the window again. She tapped her foot down on the carpet rhythmically, ignoring the man who was standing behind her.

Sawyer shook his head and walked to the door, hearing Hudson scratching on the wood on the other side. He went for the doorknob, but his hand stopped when the small voice in his head asked him why he was doing this. Why he was leaving her alone now that she needed someone to rely on. Why he was denying her the little affection she needed.

Wilhelmina stared intently down when something in the reflection caught her attention. Looking up, Sawyer was standing right behind her. She jumped when she felt his hand circle her waist and rest on her stomach, pulling her against his chest, roughly.

He dipped his head and latched his lips on to the skin of her neck. Her eyes closed instantly, at the contact, and placed her hand over his, her nails digging into his skin. His other hand came to rest on her hip, steadying her.

Then, with a swift move, he spun her around and sank a hand through her hair, pulling her to him. When their lips met, he was amazed at how he had suffered the loss of contact when he had been forced to pull back after Daniel had barged in. Right now, the sensation of her body pressed against his was something he couldn't walk away from.

He pulled her backwards with him, and when the back of his legs hit the mattress, he pulled back and sat down, looking up, in awe of her. His hands reached the hem of her dress and pulled it up over her hips. She lifted her arms, allowing him to slip the fabric over her head and toss it aside. As she stood there, clad only in her lacey black panties and a black corset, he couldn't help but think of what an idiot Daniel Meade was.

"You're incredible," he whispered, his eyes traveling down her body, taking in her legs, her curves, the way the corset cupped her breasts, how her hair framed perfectly her flushed face. He drank in her sight, and she smirked. She pulled his shirt out of his pants and began unbuttoning it slowly, her eyes fixed on the way his muscles twitched every time her nails would graze his skin. When the last button had been undone, she pushed the shirt over his shoulder and moved to straddle him.

His hand immediately found the back of her corset, while her teeth bit down on his earlobe, eliciting a groan from him. He closed his eyes, trying to focus on the task ahead of him, and when his fingers found the little ribbon on her back, holding the corset together, he pullet at one end, undoing the fastening. He felt the corset giving out, and pulled at the strings to unfasten it completely.

She pulled back and he was able to take the garment off completely.

Wilhelmina couldn't help but smile at the expression on his face, with his lips lightly parted and his eyes fixed on her body, in utter and complete adoration. That was exactly what she needed.

Pushing at his shoulder, she lay above him, his hands travelling down her spine; she kissed him fully on the lips, while her hands fiddled with his belt, unbuckling it skillfully. She pulled the zipper down and popped the button from the buttonhole, deliberately slowly. He raised his hips allowing her to push the fabric down, at least till mid-thigh.

Sawyer sat up, bringing her to a sitting position too, and while her hands returned to his back, with her nails scratching down on his skin and the sensation of his rough skin against hers, he reached down to his own legs, pushing the invading trousers further down, and kicking them off with his own legs.

He clutched at her shoulder, pushing her back against him. She grabbed a fistful of his hair and crashed her lips against his again, grinding against him, needing the friction. He cupped her ass and rubbed himself against her, eliciting a moan when his length rubbed her through the fabrics of their underwear.

When his desire began to cloud his reasoning, he grabbed her by her hips and rolled them over, now being the one on top, the one with the power.

He tugged at her underwear, sliding it down her legs, while she did the same to him; he tossed her panties aside, and pulled back to kick his away, too. Wilhelmina managed to straddle him again and kissed him fiercely. He leaned back, with one hand on the mattress supporting him, and the other one on the small of her back.

She reached down, grabbing him and positioning herself over him. She pulled back, resting her forehead against his, and he snapped his eyes shut as she sank down on him.

When he opened them again, their eyes locked and Wilhelmina stiffened and swallowed hard. Her breathing was heavy and her hands were shaking on his shoulders. She couldn't tell whether it was the excitement, or just fear of being with someone else other than Daniel for the first time in years.

Feeling her uneasiness, he brought his hand to her cheek, stroking her cheekbone , trying to ignore his painful needs while she stood still, not moving, wrapped around him. He smiled, in between heavy breaths, and nodded. "You're beautiful," he whispered.

He leaned in and brushed his lips against her, and she felt the ice in her veins melt, giving in to what she felt was right in that moment, pushing all worries aside. She pulled at his nape, deepening the kiss, and started to move. With each movement, she felt as if the rejection and the hurt received by the person she had loved were being washed away by the sheer adoration she was now being showered with.

When he was sure her hesitation was gone, Sawyer placed his hands on her hips, guiding her down on him, every time with a little more force. He moved up against her, meeting her every time she would descend on him, till they found a perfect rhythm. In fact, so perfect it seemed like they'd been together for a lifetime.

He pulled back from the kiss and rested his head against her chest, placing rough kisses in the valley in between her breasts, while she arched her back against him as the sensations washed over her. He moved his kisses to the base of her throat, sucking on the skin.

She ran her hand through his hair, riding him faster as the familiar tingling behind her navel became stronger and she drew closer to her climax. Listening to her moaning, he bit his bottom lip and thrust harder upwards, unable to hold back his own groans.

When she knew she was close, she grabbed him by his chin and forced his lips against hers. She stilled, and the kiss did little to stifle her moans; her hands clutched at his shoulders, and her muscles tensed madly. Her walls tightened against him and he pulled away if only to enjoy the sound of her voice as she came, knowing he was the one who was making her feel like that. He closed his eyes and kept driving into her, prolonging her climax as long as he could when his own climax hit him.

He pulled at her hips, pushing her down on him with force and stilling her, moaning against her shoulder, eyes tight shut and nails digging into the soft flesh as he went over the agonized edge, holding her tight against him.

They drove the last of their climaxes together, hands grasping at each other, both keeping their eyes shut even as they came down from their highs. They stayed stoically entangled together, hands still on each other's body, eyes closed, breathing heavily against each other's skin.

She swallowed and shifted position, disentangling herself from him and lying down on the mattress. Sawyer sank back onto the bed, too, next to her, and his hand wandered before finding hers and squeezing it.

"I don't want this to be awkward," he said, looking upwards.

She snatched her hand from his and tried to roll on her side, shirking away from him but he stopped her grabbing her hand again and staring at her.

"You heard me?" he said, his thumb caressing the flesh of the back of her hand. He rolled on his side and his eyes caught the small hickey on her collarbone. He smiled and leaned in, tracing the edges with his tongue. Wilhelmina tilted her head back, allowing him more space, and he ran his hand up and down her side, massaging the skin on her hipbone. "You're incredible," he repeated, for the second time that night, mumbling against her skin.

Maybe she could let him stay, that night.

_And the tears come streaming down your face  
>When you lose something you can't replace<em>

He had lost any contact with reality, and couldn't tell how long he'd been standing in the elevator, staring at his own reflection, when the doors opened and he stared into the familiar pupils of the concierge.

"Mister Meade?" the man asked, tentatively.

Daniel looked at him, without answering.

"Mister Meade, I'm not one to mind other people's business, but you've been standing in there for a good four hours. It's very late, shouldn't you go home?" the man asked, his hand on the door to stop it from closing.

Daniel shrugged, not having a real answer to that question. He knew he should go home, but the only home he had was not the home where he wanted to be now. He wanted to be with her, in their home. The only home he wanted was the home where he couldn't be.

"Mister Meade, is there something you would like me to do?" the man insisted, worried at the lack of a whatsoever reaction from the man who'd been living in that building for the past two years. He knew what was going on between the couple, _former_couple, but he would never ask. He was a discrete person, it was part of his job.

Daniel nodded and took out his cell phone; he dialed a familiar number and gave the device to the man, who brought it to his ear.

"Oh hello. Uhm, sorry for the late call. No, this is not Daniel Meade, I'm the concierge of 38th Fifth Avenue. I'm afraid I need you to come down here, Miss. We have a situation." He glanced into the elevator, where Daniel was completely motionless. "An elevator situation."

_When you love someone, but it goes to waste  
>Could it be worse?<em>

She rolled on her side and checked the clock on her nightstand. It read 4am. She looked over her shoulder, at the sleeping form next to her. It was weird, having someone to warm the other side of the bed. Looking at the small bundle in between her legs and Sawyer's, she smiled. Hudson seemed perfectly happy with the new sleeping arrangement.

She moved the covers off her legs, and got out of bed, padding quietly across the room. She stopped to grab the deep blue, silky robe hanging on the back of her door. Hudson's head snapped up, following her movements. She motioned for him to follow her, but the dog just followed her with his big eyes. On the threshold, she looked at the dog one last time.

"Are you coming or not?" she whispered, patting on her thigh. Hudson yawned and jumped off the bed, reaching Wilhelmina. They both left the room, and Sawyer, closing the door behind them. Wilhelmina kept the robe tight against her body, and stepped into the dining room, walking up to the central heating control panel. She turned the temperature up a bit, and turning around she saw Hudson had rolled into a ball in the corner of the room, and was snoring again.

"You're tired, little thing?" she said, tilting her head. Hudson responded with a loud snore, and Wilhelmina's smile grew wider. It still astounded her how much she was growing accustomed to the little, yet imposing new presence in her life.

She heard a noise coming from the kitchen and scrunched up her nose, wondering what it might be. She walked into the room and located the flashing light of her blackberry. The persistent buzz forced her to pick it up, and when she read the name of the caller she stared at the screen.

"Why on Earth are you calling so late?" she hissed into the phone, after accepting the call.

Betty's voice sounded worried. "Wilhelmina, did anything happen?" she asked.

"What?" she asked, confused. Then, slowly, she realized the cause of the call could be only one. "Where's Daniel? Is he ok? Something happened?"

"Nothing serious," Betty said, sighing. "I'm on my way to your building now."

"Here? Why?" she asked, panicking as she thought of the man sleeping in her bed. "You can't come here."

"Daniel is in your building," Betty explained. "The concierge called, apparently we have an _elevator situation_."

"What on Earth is an elevator situation?" Wilhelmina asked, trying to keep her voice low. "Are you trying to tell me Daniel is stuck in my elevator?"

"Well, the elevator is not stuck," Betty said. "I'm not sure I can say the same thing about Daniel."

Wilhelmina narrowed her eyes. "You're blaming me?" she hissed.

"Never said anything like that, Wilhelmina," Betty said. "But you were quick to think it was because of you. Must mean something. Anyway, I'm on my way," the girl added quickly.

Wilhelmina snapped the phone shut and dropped it back on the counter, furrowing her forehead as she pondered what to do. In the blink of an eye, she folded her arms and walked determinedly towards the entrance, grabbing her keys on her way and swinging the door open wide. Hudson jumped at the sound and followed Wilhelmina on the landing, just before she could close the door behind her.

She pushed the elevator button and stood there, arms crossed, her robe tight around her body, while Hudson looked enthusiastically up at her and then at the elevator doors, perceiving that they were about to receive a visit.

When the elevator doors dinged opened, she parted her lips slightly at the sight. Daniel had sat down, cross legged, and was still looking ahead, with an empty stare. However, this one time, he looked up and the two locked eyes. Hudson, happy to see Daniel again, scurried to the man, jumping on his legs and trying to reach his face to lick him. Daniel stroked the little dog, trying to calm him down, but there was no enthusiasm in his actions.

"Why are you doing this?" Wilhelmina asked, shaking her head.

"I feel like…if I don't leave this building, you won't be really gone from my life. I feel like being here is the only thing I can grasp to keep you next to me. I can't walk away. I don't know what to do."

The tone in her ex-husband's voice, for a second, made her forget of all he'd done to her. She stepped inside the elevator and leaned back against the wall, sliding down till she was sat next to Daniel. Leaning her head back, she looked ahead as the elevator doors closed.

"I didn't see him leave," Daniel said, looking at her.

She tucked her legs under her and looked at him, before speaking softly. "That's because he didn't."

Daniel went back to looking ahead, nodding lightly with a bitter smile on his face. She tilted her head to the side, knowing what he was feeling because she'd been in the same situation. She knew how much he was hurting, she knew what it felt like to know your one had shared such an intimate thing with someone who wasn't you.

She knew what it was like to give up on something you'd built.

"Is it…" Daniel began, but had to stop to steady his voice, and hide the cracks. "Is it worth it?"

"I don't know," she answered, truthfully. "But it's worth giving it a try."

"And we were not."

"What?" she asked, not understanding him. In that moment, the elevator moved as someone, from another floor, called it.

"We were not worth giving it a try?" he asked, looking down at his own fingers.

She remained silent, not knowing what to answer to his question. Maybe he was right, maybe if she'd stopped to think about it more carefully she would've seen there were ways to fix things. But how could she fix things, when her heart was the first thing to be damaged so badly?

She sighed and moved to stand up, but Daniel grabbed her by her wrist and made her face him. He stared into her eyes before moving to capture her lips with his. Her eyes widened, and she was petrified at first, not having a clue what she should do. If on one hand she didn't want to push him away, she knew giving in was the wrong thing to do.

He cupped her face and tilted his head, deepening the kiss, and she closed her eyes, because her body didn't know differently. Because it was Daniel, and her body responded on its own when it came down to him.

She let him kiss her, and kissed him back. Actually, she allowed herself to get lost in the kiss, and realized then and there that she would never really be free.

_Lights will guide you home  
>And ignite your bones<br>And I will try to fix you_

Betty and the concierge stood side by side, waiting for the elevator to reach the ground floor. She was staring impatiently at the flashing light on the call button, half mad at the man for letting the elevator go before she could get there. She tapped her foot, nervously, and when the dinging noise signaled the elevator had reached their floor, she looked at the doors as they opened, confused at the scene before her.

Daniel and Wilhelmina were sitting on the floor, staring into each other's eyes. Hudson was rolled on Daniel's lap, snoring. Daniel looked like a mess, while Wilhelmina was dressed in a deep blue robe and was barefoot. Betty looked at her and saw that she had a single tear rolling down her cheek.

"Daniel…" she whispered, taking a step forward, but she stopped on the spot when Wilhelmina stood up brusquely, wiping the tear with a swift movement. She helped Daniel up, and Hudson tumbled on the floor. She held his hand as he stepped out of the elevator. When he was outside, however, she remained inside, letting go of his hand.

Betty sprang forward hugging Daniel, and he hugged her back.

Wilhelmina watched the scene, bracing herself against the cold air, and against the coldness that came from within. Daniel turned around and looked at her. She opened her lips, as if trying to tell something, but instead looked down, and pushed the button for her floor.

As the doors closed, between them, he saw her arms fall down her sides, and felt the urge to stop the elevator and not let her go. Hudson yapped lightly, and in Daniel's head the puppy was asking him desperately not to go.

But in a second, and just like that, with a ding, she was gone.

"Let's get you home, ok?" Betty said, rubbing his back. He nodded, letting the girl lead him through the hall and onto the cab she had used to get there. He looked up, watching the many windows of the building, and said goodbye to the life he thought he would always have.

_And high up above or down below  
>When you're too in love to let it go<em>

As soon as she walked back into the apartment, Wilhelmina knew she was not alone. The man, clad only in his boxers, was looking at her from the threshold, with a questioning look. Hudson waggled inside and she closed the door, dropping her keys on the table nearby. Then she looked up and held Sawyer's stare.

"The concierge called," she said, lying through her teeth. "Late night delivery."

"What did you get?"

"It was the wrong name, wasn't for me," she explained.

Sawyer nodded, leaning against the doorframe. Both knew it was a lie, but they also knew there were some things that he would never be allowed access to. Her relationship with Daniel would always be the one thing he could not touch.

"Are you coming back to bed?" he asked.

She fiddled with her fingers, and shook her head. "I think you should go."

Sawyer nodded. "Thought so."

Before he could turn around and go back to collect his clothes, she sprang forward and placed a hand on his forearm, stopping him and making him turn around to face her. "I'm not regretting it," she said, determined. "I just need…to go slowly, step by step. You can't sleep here. It's not right."

"For him?" he said, alluding to Daniel.

"For me," she pointed out.

Sawyer looked down at where her hands touched his skin and nodded. "You're right," he agreed. "But I'm not giving you up. I want to be there, if you'll let me."

A small, sad smile curved her lips as she nodded. "I'll do what I can."

_But if you never try you'll never know  
>Just what you're worth<em>

"He's asleep."

Betty walked into the huge saloon, where Claire was pacing the room worriedly. The two exchanged a look, both aware of how this situation was taking its toll on Daniel.

"I feel so powerless," Betty said, sitting down. The light coming from the fireplace underlined the dark circles under the girl's eyes, and Claire felt grateful for her devotion to Daniel. "I wish there was something we could do. It's frustrating, watching them destroy each other."

Claire nodded and sat down next to her, squeezing her knee. "He needs to work his issues out on his own."

"But he's feeling so…alone."

"Then, all we can do is be there for him, let him know that he's not," Claire said. "Betty, I appreciate your need to change things, but there are some things that can't be changed." Shifting her eyes on the fire, she shook her head. "Some things just can't be mended."

Betty sighed profoundly, then patted her thighs and stood up. "I better go, before my dad wakes up and finds I'm not there. He might have a stroke. Again."

Claire chuckled and stood up, following after the girl. On the threshold to the entrance door, the two exchanged a smile. "Thank you, Betty," Claire whispered. "For coming back, for being the one person I know Daniel will always have."

"It's my job, Miss Meade," the girl said.

Claire watched as the chubby brunette walked away, reaching the town car that she'd told her to use to go back, and feeling a wave of gratitude. He knew, of all people, Betty would always be the one to be undoubtedly on her son's side.

Closing the door, she found herself alone in the hall, and looked around at the people surrounding her in the frames hanging on the walls. Pictures of her parents, Bradford's family, and Daniel and Alex smiling joyfully from everywhere.

Looking up, however, the eyes she met were not joyful at all. On top of the stairs was Daniel, defeated and beat, his hair ruffled, in his grey sweats and a white shirt.

"I thought you were asleep, dear?" Claire asked, reaching the bottom of the stair and watching as his son made his way downwards.

"Yeah, that's what I had to make Betty believe, or she would never go home," he said. "I can't sleep," he added, when he was standing a few steps away from his mother.

Claire stretched her arm out. "Come here," she said, and Daniel took her hand, feeling like he was being thrown thirty years back in time. "I'll make tea," she said, smiling.

"Thank you, Mom," he said, squeezing her hand.

Half an hour later they sat side by side, on the couch, mugs in their hands, silently comforting each other. He was tired of talking about it, tired of feeling depressed. He was so incredibly tired of everything surrounding him, but his mother's presence was the only thing he couldn't do without.

"You're coming to the retreat?" he asked, trying to bring up a subject different from the one they'd been discussing uninterruptedly for the past month.

Claire nodded. "I have to," she said, rolling her eyes. "You always make me go."

"Yeah well, we can both stay home, if you want," he proposed.

Claire looked at him and shook her head. "No, Daniel, I think we should both go," she said, putting much emphasis on the word _both_. "You can't shy away, you need to take your life back. I know you're hurting, but you can't hide away in here until it numbs the pain."

"Why not?" he asked, annoyed at how they'd ended up talking about it all the same. "That's what you did? It worked fine for you."

"Not so fine, after all," Claire said, with a low chuckle. "I was ashamed, when I really shouldn't be. You made a mistake Daniel, but you have to face it and live your life."

"Alright," he said. "We're going to the retreat."

_Lights will guide you home  
>And ignite your bones<br>And I will try to fix you_

The morning after, Amanda Tanen Sommers sat in the hall of _Isabella_ magazine, watching the people walking before her eyes, not deigning her of a look. She held her curriculum vitae on her lap, and smiled at the sight of the receptionist, doing nothing but filing her nails, while a blonde, obviously gay, young boy sat on the surface of her desk, legs crossed, telling her about Penelope Greybridge's latest fling behind her husband's back.

She remembered what it used to feel like, being in their place, no worries and no enemies, nothing to be concerned about except for the next month's rent. She remembered what it used to be like to have Marc always on her side, she remembered what it used to be like to wake up in the morning and actually loving her job. And being loved by the people around her.

With a sudden flash, she remembered what it was like, to have Wilhelmina walk around her desk, and barely acknowledge her presence the first times. Then she remembered when Wilhelmina had helped her, when she'd been looking for her father, tracking down the Studio 54 guest list for the night she'd been conceived. She remembered finding out Wilhelmina's previous identity, and promising to the woman her secret would be safe with her.

In the last period, after the marriage, Wilhelmina had started to remember her name. A few times, she'd even smiled at her, whenever she would supervise a shoot she was styling, and one rare time they even sat down next to each other and chatted about old times.

Her smile fell as the tears threatened to fall down her face again, and the guilt she was trying hard to suppress came back full force.

"Tanen Sommers," came a voice from the far end of the corridor. She looked up and saw a blonde girl motioning for her to follow her. Amanda did as told, and the young girl led her to a door. On the silver plate, she read the name. _Penelope Greybridge._

The girl knocked on the door for her, and then walked away, leaving her alone. When a voice came from the other side of the door, drawling an unenthusiastic "Come in," she sighed and pushed the door open.

She would have to get used to the new working environment. After all, it was the only place where her presence hadn't been banned by the almighty Wilhelmina Slater.

_Tears stream down on your face  
>When you lose something you cannot replace<br>Tears stream down on your face  
>And on your face I...<em>

Sawyer Reinhardt was the son of Albert Reinhardt, of Reinhardt National Oil Company. When he was twenty years old, he dropped out of college and told his father he would not follow in his footsteps in the oil executive industry.

Albert Reinhardt, on his part, was the son of Dwight Reinhardt. The Reinhardts had been a familiar business for years, before reaching the status of national company under Albert's name. They were not only well known in the business, but were also known as one of the richest families on the planet.

No one would ever guess Sawyer would be so quick in deciding that was not the future he wanted, but eventually they'd accepted it. Albert cared more for his son's happiness, than he did for his industry's legacy. Especially seen as there were thousands of cousins, in the Reinhardt family, who were more than ready to fill in Sawyer's position.

He had moved out of the monumental Reinhardts mansion down in Austin, Texas when he was twenty-one, deciding for a smaller apartment in the city, one his father had given to him as a present for his twenty-first birthday. Other than that, Sawyer refused to live off his father's money, coherent with his lifestyle choices.

The day after what happened at Wilhelmina's, he was in his apartment, very early in the morning, when he heard a light knock on the door. He got off the bed and walked to the door, peeking through the peephole. He smiled when he saw a familiar pair of hazel eyes.

Opening up, he was immediately enveloped in a man hug, a strong man hug he recognized only his father could give him.

"What are you doing here in New York so early, Dad?" he asked, patting the old man's back, while he closed the door.

"Can't an old man visit his only child?" Albert exclaimed, taking off his hat and throwing it on the table. "How's my boy doing?"

Sawyer, still surprised by his father's unannounced presence, blinked a couple times before flashing him a smile and shrugging. "Good!" he exclaimed. "Everything's fine. Why didn't you tell me you were coming?"

"Because you would have made up some lame excuse not to have me over here," the man said, smiling knowingly under the white moustache. "What is it you're hiding, anyway? We haven't seen you in over a year."

Sawyer scratched the back of his head, feeling awkward. "I'm not hiding anything. I've been busy, Dad."

He couldn't say he didn't want his father butting in his personal life, and he couldn't say he hated it when he came over to offer money and give it the umpteenth try in convincing him to take on the co-chair position down in Austin. Overall, they were all good reason to him, good reasons that he could never really tell his father.

"How's Mum?" he asked, changing subject quickly.

"Good good, you know her, still bosses me around as always, your Ma is still the same as she was forty years ago."

"That's good, I guess," Sawyer said, chuckling. His father sat down on the couch, patting his protruding stomach. "Again, is there a reason why you're here?"

The man looked around, trying to pretend he hadn't heard it, but Sawyer knew his father too well not to know there was a very peculiar reason why he had flown all the way up to New York City.

"Dad."

"Nothing, son, just…your Ma heard of this lady you've been seeing and-"

"I can't believe it, she sent you here to nose into my personal life!" Sawyer exclaimed, shaking his head at his mother's subtle ways of knowing what was going on with him. He knew she secretly still hoped to see him married, with five kids and a farm, one day.

"That's not it," his father added quickly. "It's just…this lady friend of yours seems to be quite an important person."

"She's a friend," Sawyer stated, emphasizing the last word. "And yes, she has a name in her business, but that doesn't concern Ma in any way."

Albert fiddled with the buckle of his belt. "She says this woman has quite some baggage."

"Dad, she's a friend. It's not like I'm engaged of anything. If I ever get engaged, you'll be the first to know." Sawyer looked down on his father, with a small smile, knowing how much the man missed him at home, how he wish he could be more involved in his life. He knew how much he'd suffered when Sawyer had left Texas, and still suffered at the distance.

Then on his father's face appeared the curious smile he'd inherited from him. "How's this woman?" he asked, wiggling his eyebrows.

Sawyer sighed, and his smile grew wider without being able to control it.

He let his mind wander to the night before, to the way she tasted, to her smell, to the way her nails had dug into his skin, where he still had the marks to prove it. He remembered her voice echoing through his memories, and the way her body moved against his.

"She's perfect."

_Lights will guide you home  
>And ignite your bones<br>And I will try to fix you_


	14. She's Out Of My Life

**She's out of my Life**

Daniel had eventually succumbed to sleep around 6am, only to awaken again shortly after seven, covered in a layer of sweat, after his mind decided to torture him even in his dreams. His slumber had been plagued by unbidden images; him holding on to Wilhelmina for dear life, only to feel her slip through his fingers as the hands of the handsome stranger pulled her from him. The surge of hope he felt when he felt another hand cover his and the crushing devastation when he turned to meet, not Wilhelmina's eyes, but Amanda's.

The cycle had repeated over and over as his body tried to rest, to recuperate from the anguish it had endured the previous day. His 41year old body felt like that of a man twice his age as he tried to pull himself from the confines of the bed. Walking to the adjacent bathroom he peeled off the vest and boxers that stuck to his skin and left them were they fell on the floor. He twisted the knob for the shower to spring to life, he stood outside the walk-in shower and watched the water fall in front of him, felt the warmth of the steam beginning to cloud the room, obscuring his eyes. No matter, he wasn't taking in his surroundings anyway, his eyes were nothing more than the two orbs planted inside his skull, he didn't think he'd see anything with them ever again, not while his minds eye saw only her.

The look on her face when he had walked in uninvited, the sheer defeat in her eyes when the papers were signed and she knew that everything she had worked so hard for was over. He'd never forget the moment when she relented to his touch and pulled him too her as he gave her a final embrace. His own inner voice seemed to be mocking him, laughing at him for being the fool he had been, sitting in the elevator, only to feel close to her still. When those doors had opened to show her standing there, he hadn't cared how pathetic he looked, he cared only that she was there, that some part of her still felt for him. He hadn't even cared that she had shown up wearing only a silk robe, knowing that the other man was still inside the apartment and knowing full well what had occurred in those hours in between.

All he had cared about was that moment, that one moment inside that elevator, when everything had no choice but to be shut away, where it was just him and her, where he had seen the first trace in her eyes that maybe she wasn't as ready to let go as she said she was. If he concentrated hard enough, he could still taste their final kiss, still feel her lips moving against his and feel her breath on his face.

What if Betty hadn't been waiting at the bottom? What if he had had just one more minute with her? Would that have been the one minute in which the wall between them would have fallen? Would that have been the moment that she realised they could try and heal the wound he created? Or would she still have gone back upstairs into the arms of another? His stomach tightened as his mind once again created scenarios just to torment him, images of his wife with Sawyer.

Scratch that, ex-wife.

The sudden clarity with which this revelation hit him made the bile rise in his chest. EX – wife, never again would he call her his wife, he was a divorcee, he was a failure. Spinning around he bent double and emptied the contents of his stomach into the toilet. When there was nothing else left to give he crumbled next to it, he didn't think he had been in such a sorry state in his whole life: alone, naked and broken on his mothers bathroom floor.

Using his last reserve of strength, he reached for the sink and pulled himself up to stand in front of the mirror. He wiped the condensation and looked himself through the fog; he didn't know the man staring back at him. The man he was used to seeing was happy, confident, and secure in his life; the man looking back at him now wasn't even a shadow of who he was. In the space of 6 weeks he had let his own insecurities drag him down into a hell of his own making. He knew he had to get it together, knew he had to try and reshape his life somehow, he just couldn't see a way out of his quagmire. Not without her by his side.

He mentally tried to slap himself, when that didn't work he lifted his hand and swiftly smacked it across his face; he didn't even register the sting. The room now full of steam, he couldn't see the broken man looking back at him anymore. Daniel stepped away from the sink and stepped under the battering stream of water, he tilted his face upwards, closing his eyes.

If he stayed still enough, he could imagine he were home, that any minute now he would be assaulted by a gust of cold air as Wilhelmina stepped into the room to tell him to hurry his ass up or they would be late for work, as she did every morning; and every morning he would reply they were in charge, they weren't late, everyone else was merely early. A reply which would either result on the door opening and him feeling a body slide in next to his, or a breath catching torrent of cold water raining down on him as she turned the temperature down on his shower.

If he stayed quiet enough he could pretend that the noises he heard, in the vast reaches of the house, was Wilhelmina darting about in their bedroom, trying to find some god forsaken cream or other, shouting through the bathroom door that he must have moved it and he would ignore her shouts, counting to himself as he knew the call would come that she had found what she was looking for, and he would laugh to himself because he knew it was in the same place it always was.

But this morning there was no laughing; there was no human presence in the other room. No hand would fiddle with the control of the shower, giving him an abrupt wake up call. No one would be sliding in next to him, entwining with him under the cascade of water. And when he opened his eyes, he would not be home, he would not find himself staring into the bejewelled eyes he loved so much. When he opened his eyes he would be back in his personal hell, he wouldn't be able to pretend anymore.

He kept them closed.

_She's out of my life_

_She's out of my life_

_And I don't know whether to laugh or cry_

"We're too late Fey." The hushed voice came down the phone.

"Claire, for the love of God speak up, or have you a bad case of 'the morning after'. Too late for what?"

Claire looked over her shoulder and hurried through her hallway to ensconce herself in the kitchen. "The papers are signed, it's done, it's over, they're divorced."

"Shame." Fey took a drink from her morning coffee, disinterested in what the other woman was saying.

"Did you hea-"

"Yes, yes, I heard you. So she divorced him? It's an unfortunate blip I admit, had they stayed married it would have ensured I could keep Amanda from him."

"An _unfortunate blip_!" Claire repeated, incredulous. "My sons marriage is over, he is upstairs, right now, destroyed and you call it an unfortunate blip!"

Fey sat up straighter in the chair, holding the phone closer. "You're son is of no consequence to me. I did not come back because of Daniel, I'm here for my daughter, I hope your darling child _is_destroyed after what he did to her."

Claire moved once again, further into the house, even though she knew no one could here her. "What he did! It was your daughter who slept with a married man!"

Claire heard an exasperated sigh echo down the line and she wanted to reach a hand down it and choke the woman on the other end. "Claire, let's not play whose child is the biggest disappointment, shall we? A Meade and a Sommers both have plenty of credentials in that field, what do you expect with us for parents?"

Claire laughed, low and hollow in disbelief. "Don't you try and put yourself in the same box as me when it comes to motherhood. I'm amazed you even have the audacity to call yourself a parent, you didn't raise her, you abandoned her."

"That shouldn't suggest I don't care for her." She was growing increasingly bored with the conversation at hand. "Look, why are you calling?"

Claire bit back the scream she could feel rising in her throat and took a calming breath. "I thought since your master plan was to keep Daniel and Wilhelmina from divorcing, that you might be interested to know it's a done deal." She could almost hear her oldest adversary shrug with indifference.

"And as I said it's unfortunate, for Wilhelmina at least. I do so hate to see her unhappy, but I must admit I enjoy seeing the carnage she leaves in her wake when she is. My priority though, as I have stated several times, but admit your alcohol sponge of a brain must find difficult to hold on to; is Amanda."

"What's your next move?"

"I'll make my presence known in my own time, I'll make her see that the fantasy she is living in her head would be a dangerous reality, one which would never live up to her expectations."

"And what about Daniel and Wilhelmina?"

Fey pulled the phone away from her and looked into the receiver, puzzled. "What about them? Your son, your mess, I daresay _my_ Wilhelmina is better off without him."

"How many times! She is not-" Claire stopped her rebuke when she was met by the dialling tone on the line. Fey had disconnected her, outraged; she slammed her finger on the end button and threw the phone on the kitchen counter.

"Who was that?" A voice from behind startled her. She spun round to see Daniel, freshly shaven and in clean clothes, standing in the doorway.

Claire wracked her brains, searching for a name. "Wilhelmina!" She blurted, then squeezed her eyes closed._Why did I say the one name he doesn't want to hear right now, and the one name he will ask about?_

To her surprise he merely nodded and walked to the fridge, pulling it open and retrieving a pitcher of iced tea. He sat at the island and poured himself a glass. He tried to tune into the song drifting from the radio in the background, tried to concentrate on anything other than the demons in his head. He vaguely took in some sugary sweet lyrics about love before he shut it out again, the up-tempo beat becoming nothing but a threnody to his ears.

Claire watched her son watching the lemon floating inside the pitcher and she knew he was no longer in the room with her. As she watched her son in turmoil, she thought of all the pain the woman who occupied his thoughts had brought on their household. She knew in this instance that she wasn't at fault, but she couldn't help her maternal instinct kicking in and feeling resentment towards Wilhelmina for the agony she had brought her baby.

"Don't." Daniel spoke in a quiet, robotic voice.

"Don't what?"

Still staring at the fruit moving in his glass, he sniffed loudly. "I can hear the cogs turning mother. Don't blame her, I did this, I'm responsible."

She slipped into a stool opposite him in one fluid motion and reached for his hand, he seemed not to notice, as his arms remained hanging by his side in his catatonic state. "Not just you Daniel, Amanda has to shoulder some of the responsibility; besides, your marriage was far from perfect before this, you told me yourself how she constantly undermined you, how she-"

"STOP!" His sudden shout made her jump in the quiet of the room. "I was her husband, I took another woman into our home, and I slept with her in our bed. Nothing she did or said can justify what I did. And don't lay it on Amanda either, I was the married man, I was the one with vows to uphold."

Claire leaned back in the stool, "Why are you so concerned about Amanda? Without her you would still be where you belong?"

"Would I?" He huffed out a mirthless laugh, still engrossed in the glass before him. "If it hadn't been Amanda it would have been someone else, anyone else…I wanted to hurt her. I'm the worst example of a husband…dad would be so proud, chip off the old block."

Claire ignored the slight at her husband's memory. "So…Amanda, it wasn't about her, she isn't…special to you?"

For the first time since coming in the room, Daniel lifted his head to meet his mother's eyes. "What? No…God no, it wasn't like that. It was…she didn't even have a face, I needed, I don't know, _something_, she could have been anyone."

Claire nodded, satisfied with his answer. "I uh…I called Dominic Nolan."

Daniel screwed his face up. "Your Real Estate guy?"

"He's going to help you look for an apartment. I know your…financial situation will be difficult, but I will help. Choose anything you want."

"Wow divorced one day, kicked out by mother the next, what's tomorrow? Hit by a cab?"

Claire walked around the island and lifted his hand and clasped it between her two. "I am not kicking you out, you can stay here as long as you want." She moved a hand to brush through the hair at the front of his head. "I just want you to be prepared, for when you have to move on, because if you don't it will hurt so much more when she does."

"She already has."

Claire smiled at her son's naivety. "No she hasn't. She's reaching for something, she's still hurting and she wants it to stop. I can't say I approve, but I understand…I think you do too." She kissed his forehead.

Daniel nodded and cleared his throat, not wanting to discuss it any further. "Call him again. Have him line up some places for me to look at when we come back from the retreat." He stood up and left the room without another word.

Claire watched him go, hoping for the day when she would see him smile again.

_I don't know whether to live or die_

_And it cuts like a knife_

_She's out of my life_

"Good morning!" Marc sang from the door as he swept inside the apartment and made his way to her kitchen. He found Wilhelmina sitting at her table in her robe, drinking coffee from a cup as big as her head. This, in itself, was unusual as she was always dressed by this time and usually scrawling through her emails, Marc generally liked to make sure he was there after she had gotten her morning coffee fix and lost her murderous impulses, temporarily at least.

This morning, however, she didn't even appear to see him there, hadn't even looked his way, just remained drinking from the cup in her hands. Marc clapped his hands together. "You're second favourite puppy is reporting for duty, aaaaaand…" He produced a bag from his side. "I brought croissants! I know, I know, Tuesday is carb day, but I thought seen as you leave for the Editors retreat tomorrow we cou-"

She cut him off by delving a hand into the bag, pulling out a large pastry and ripping a bite off. "Stuff pastry down our throats apparently." He finished, watching her. "I was expecting more of a battle that would ultimately end up with me getting a croissant suppository."

She swallowed the food in her mouth. "He signed Marc." She told him softly, before tearing another piece off the croissant in her hand.

"Oh." He slumped into a chair next to her. "That's…good? I guess?"

She shrugged. "Yeah…I guess."

Marc watched her stare off into space and knew she was racing through a roller coaster of emotions, even if none showed on her face. He thought back to his discussion with Amanda, the previous evening, if she ever did let Daniel in her life in the way he thought she wanted to, if she did welcome the man, who brought Wilhelmina to the state she was in, into her life. Then Amanda was right, there really only was one choice, and it was the woman before him.

"Can I get you anything?"

She scoffed, "The last four years back?"

"Do you really mean that?"

She looked into her coffee cup. "Sometimes." She whispered in the most vulnerable voice he had ever heard the formidable woman use. Shaking her head, she brought her gaze upward, breaking her state of mind. "Anyway, that's not why I asked you here. You know I'm leaving for the retreat tomorrow?"

He nodded as she bit her lip and continued. "As much as it pains me to say it, I have let things slide at Mode, due to…circumstances. There is no way I have left enough in place to keep the office running in my absence. I want to ask you…tell you…you're in charge Marc."

Marc stood up slowly, eyes wide. "For reals!" he spluttered.

She smiled at him, she would always be thankful for his ability to make her do that even when she felt like dying inside. "Yes, I trust you Marc, but you won't be alone. I am going to ask Betty if Mode can sequester her for a week, she's more than up to date with her work for London."

"Betty?" He quizzed; distaste dripping off the name.

"Yes Marc, Betty. She is far more adept at the Editorial side, I'll see if she will oversee some of our bigger articles. She is NOT, however, to be involved in the fashion aspect in anyway. The last thing I need is a spread on animal sweaters. That side is down to you."

"Have I told you recently that I love you?" He quipped.

"You have, but it might save more time if you just tattoo it on your forehead."

"Done!" He jigged around on his feet and clasped his hands together. "Willie! I just…I mean…oh screw it, I'm goin' in!" He shouted as he lunged forward, hugging her to him tightly.

She allowed him to hug her and smiled to herself, when he pulled back he was still wearing that stupid grin she loved but told him she hated. "There is_one_ condition." She arched her eyebrow.

"Okay." He said nervously, awaiting one of her usual degrading demands.

On cue, a yellow ball of fur trotted into the room. Willie inclined her head to the dog. "Walk Hudson, there is no way I'm doing it and Sawyer doesn't do weekends." She smirked, the smirk died on her face when she heard her door opening and after familiar, heavy footsteps, Sawyers frame filled the door.

"Actually, I thought I would help out today too…Hi." He said, his brilliant smile reduced to a nervous grin.

"Hi." She replied in a breath, stunned by his sudden appearance.

Marc looked at Sawyer, waved his arm out widely to get his attention. The man looked straight through him and kept his stare solely on Wilhelmina. When Marc turned to her, she saw her own gaze was trained right back at Sawyer, the two holding each other with their eyes and not uttering a word.

Realising they had been staring for an inordinate amount of time, Sawyer brusquely cleared his throat and ran a hand through his hair as the little dog yapped excitedly at his heels, knowing his presence meant he was going out, "I'll go get his leash." He backed out of the room, Hudson scampering after him.

Marc banged his hands on the table and swivelled his head dramatically towards Willie. "OH-A-MY-A-GOD! You totally got yourself a bite of that hotdog! SPILL!"

Wilhelmina scoffed. "You don't know what you're talking about." She said, unconvincingly and took a gulp of the now cold, bitter coffee.

"Please, I can always tell when you got some."

"You do not!" She exclaimed, affronted.

"Pffft, I knew about you and Daniel MONTHS before you told me."

"Rubbish, there is no way you know the first time Da-"

"Fashion-week-Mode-tent-right-before-Christina-went-in-to-labour." The words tumbled from his mouth. "Next?" He grinned.

She gawped at him. "How did you..?" She was spared of finding out how her friend had such extensive knowledge of her sex life, by a knock at the door.

Shooting Marc a look, somewhere between creeped out and impressed, she pushed herself up from the table and made her way to the door. Opening it she was more than surprised to see an older man standing there, sporting every stereotypical southern-style garment known to man, right down to the Stetson he took of his head and held to his chest. "Well mornin' ma'am…" He began trying to speak to her.

"Sorry Colonel, not buying." She tried to close the door in his face, irritated at some of the characters her doorman let in the building. The man stuck a hand out to stop the door for closing, Wilhelmina looked at him with a glint in her eye.

"Oh no, I'm not sellin'" He laughed. "Allow me to introduce myself I'm-"

"DAD!"

Willie spun round to the source of the voice behind her and found Sawyer staring at the uninvited guest in shock. "Dad?" She questioned him.

Sawyer shot Willie a cursory glance as he hurried up to the door, holding the edge of it and standing next to a bewildered Wilhelmina. "Dad, WHAT in God's name are you doin' here? I told you…"

"I know, I know, but forgive me for wanting to meet this so-called _perfect_ woman my son told me about."

Sawyer rolled his eyes and reddened at his father's words, he could feel Wilhelmina's eyes burning into the side of his face. "Why don't we continue this inside?" Wilhelmina offered, wishing to avoid speculation from gossiping neighbours.

She stepped aside and Sawyer's father moved past her, giving her a bow of the head as he did so. "Much obliged ma'am."

Sawyer fussed at the door and whispered in Willies ear. "I'm so sorry, I had no idea, I swear. I don't know what he thinks he's playin' at."

Willie didn't know whether to laugh or rage at the sudden development, all she knew was that the longer she felt Sawyer next to her; the harder it was to stay mad. "Never mind, let's just see what he wants."

"But Hudson?" Sawyer held up the end of the lead in his hand, the other end of which was attached to the excitable puppy, clearly awaiting a walk.

"MARC!" A second after Willie's call, Marc scurried through from the kitchen, smirking when he saw Wilhelmina and Sawyer stood so closely together, that coupled with the man who had just introduced himself in the kitchen, as Sawyers father, was all the proof he needed that he was right about his former boss's activities with the dog-walker.

"Guess you are walking Hudson, after all." She huffed, snatching the lead from Sawyers hand and thrusting it into Marcs.

Marc happily took the lead from Wilhelmina and headed out the door, as he came to the threshold he bumped straight into someone. Pulling back, a dishevelled Betty straightened the glasses on her face. "Ow Marc! Walk much?"

Wilhelmina brought her hand to her forehead and groaned, annoyed by the thoroughfare coming through her door that morning. "What brings you here so early on a Sunday Suarez?" Marc asked, brightly.

Betty looked from Marc, to Wilhelmina and Sawyer and narrowed her eyes at the close proximity of their bodies. "Wilhelmina asked me to come, something about the magazine."

Marc grabbed her by the flesh of her upper arm and spun her round, taking her with him down the hall. "No time for that, I'll fill you in." He stabbed the button for the elevator.

Still in the open doorway Wilhelmina squeezed her eyes closed at Marc's next choice of words.

"Willie has to meet the new in-laws!"

_Its out of my hands_

_It's out of my hands_

_To think for two years she was here_

Fey wrinkled her nose in disgust as she watched her rotund sister saturate a plate of pancakes in syrup. How she shared genes with the woman, she would never know. "Would you like me to get you a trough?" She snapped, sickened by the display.

"I'm sorry 'Miss Eats-nothing-but-air' but some of us actually enjoy food." Julia complained through a mouth of sticky blueberry syrup.

Fey looked her up and down, from chins to cankles. "Evidently."

Julia slammed down the knife and fork and dabbed her mouth with a napkin before balling it up and throwing it down in annoyance. "Did you come back from the dead to moan about my eating habits or are you actually ever going to see your daughter."

"Don't get snippy with me dear!" Fey bit back. "Remember you wouldn't be able to afford the lifestyle…or the diet you have been accustomed to if I had not paid for it."

"Well you could have left me something in your goddamn will." Julia grumbled.

Fey laughed, "And have you turning up at the lawyers, letting people know we once swam in the same gene pool. I think not dear."

Julia stabbed another forkful of her hefty breakfast and glowered at her sister. She looked at the pinched face she had grown up hating, the condescending eyes that always told her she wasn't good enough to call Fey her sister. She wished when she had opened the door all those weeks ago, it had been her party hound of a son, even her manipulative daughter, anything would be better than the sister sat before her; the sister that had supposedly been dead for six years and chose to waltz back into her life without warning.

"Stop staring Julia, it'll only make you strive for perfection that you will never have."

Julia laughed. "You think I ant to be like you? A shrivelled old woman with no one around her, too scared to get close to anyone in case the ever reveal your true identity. I may not have the best children in the world, but at least they know who I am and that I'm there for them if ever they need me. Can the same be said of your daughter?"

Fey bristled at the attack from the sibling she always thought of as inferior. "I made sure my child was cared for by people who could give them the best life possible." She leaned further across the table, pinning her sister with her stare. "And Amanda is not just my daughter, she's _your_niece! A niece I gave implicit instructions for you to look after once I no longer could, when I had to disappear I offered you the money under the proviso that she would be under your watchful eye, I should have known your eye would to finely tuned to complex carbohydrates instead."

"I have been watching her! I have kept informed of her career since the day you _should have_ went up in flames."

"I don't care about her career you foolish woman! With my genetics it was never a question that she would do well, I'm talking about her personal choices. You knew of her history with Daniel Meade, you knew how impressionable she was and you knew that the man was married to the most dangerous woman I know!"

"How was I supposed to know she'd drop her pants for him as soon as Slater's back was turned! I guess I should have, it runs in the family doesn't it?"

Fey grabbed the glass of water sat in front of her and threw the contents in her sister's face. She stood up, staring at the dripping joules of her sister, and fastened the Chanel jacket she wore. "If she ends up where I think she will because f what your neglect led her to do…I'm holding you responsible. If you had guided her better from afar she never would have made this mistake, I would never have had to come back and clean up this mess. Seems I was blessed with the beauty _and_the brains." She stormed away from the table.

"And what did I get?" Julia shouted.

Fey turned and slowly let her eyes wander over the doughy form that was her younger sister.

"Girth."

_And I took her for granted, I was so cavalier_

_Now the way that it stands_

_She's out of my hands_

"She's meeting his father?" Betty asked, feeling indignant on behalf of her friend at the speed at which his ex-wife seemed to be moving on. "The ink is barely even dry, Daniel's in pieces and she's meeting the father of her new conquest!"

"It's not like that Betty, he just showed up, anyway at least she waited until after the marriage ended to move on, unlike the man you're so concerned about." Marc instantly jumped to Wilhelmina's defence, not allowing anyone to paint her as the villain in this piece.

Betty huffed and folded her arms, trotting quickly to keep up with Marc and Hudson, who was bouncing in front of them more excited by each piece of foliage they passed in the park. "I just…Marc he's sorry. You know it, I know it, even Wilhelmina knows it! She divorced him too quickly, she never took any of the responsibility for the breakdown of the marriage."

Marc stopped abruptly, his arm jerking as Hudson strained on the leash. "Why should she! He cheated Betty! What part of that do you think is forgivable?"

"Come on you know as well as me that she was hard on him for a long time!" She wouldn't let Marc make out Wilhelmina was completely blameless.

"HEY!" He shouted, stopping her train of thought. "You haven't been here Betty! You have been on the other side of the Atlantic; the only insight into their marriage that you had was all one-sided phone calls from that jerk you still call a friend. I've been here Betty; I've seen them together every day. I watched them grow from the beginning and I watched them fall apart." He took a deep breath and lowered his tone. "I admit she is most certainly no saint, but this…" He shook his head. "This was not her doing."

Betty folded her arms tighter around her body, shielding herself from the wind and the truth in Marc's words; the truth was she didn't want to accept that her friend, the good guy, was the one in the wrong. "I'm sorry." She spoke softly, looking off to the side, finding it difficult to find the words. "I guess with me being away…I'm more used to the Wilhelmina I knew when I was Daniel's assistant. The stone cold bitch who never gave anyone their chance to shine."

"That's not her anymore." Marc told her with a small smile.

Betty nodded slowly. "Apparently not." She cleared her throat, desperate for a change in subject. "Why did she want to see me anyway? Do you know?"

He walked up to her and put his arm around her shoulders and they resumed walking, much to Hudson's delight. "You know that stone cold bitch, you were just talking about, who never gives anyone the chance to shine?"

"Yeah?"

Marc grinned down at her. "She wants us to run Mode while she's at the retreat. She wants to sequester you for what she called; your adept editorial skills."

"Okay…now I feel like the bitch." She laughed. "So, me and you huh? Working together again?"

"Yep!" He nudged her with his hip. "But I'm totally your boss."

_So I've learned that love's not possession_

_And I've learned that love won't wait_

"So I'm perfect?" She teased Sawyer, feeling in a slightly better mood now that there were considerably less people in her apartment.

"Accordin' to my boy here, yes you are." The deep voice boomed from behind her. "Could I trouble you for a drink Ms Slater?"

Wilhelmina walked past him into the kitchen. "Call me Wilhelmina." She smiled on her way past and pulled a pitcher of fresh juice from the fridge, which she had still neglected to adequately stock.

Sawyer followed her and stopped to speak in his father's ear. "I think she likes you pop, it was days before I was awarded that honour." He joked.

Albert took the glass Wilhelmina handed to him and looked from her to his son. Although both were looking at him, he couldn't miss the subtle shifts in their eyes as they snuck each other sideways glances. He knew his son; he was smitten.

"I'm sorry to just barge in here unannounced but I'm not in town often and I thought it best we meet before I head back to Texas. My wife expressed some…concerns, shall we say."

"Dad!" Sawyer warned. "I told you this morning, this is not the time." He turned to Wilhelmina. "I'm sorry, this is way too soon I know."

Willie smirked at the two men. "It's fine, he's forthright, I can respect that. Say your piece Mr Reinhardt."

The older man nodded in acquiescence and stood, buttoning his coat, the old fashioned manners suited him. "Sawyer is my only son, my first born, his happiness is very important to me. It's why I was more than happy to relinquish him from the ties of the family business and let him make his own path in this world. I admire him for his outlook on life, he sees the best in people, he's the eternal optimist. That's why sometimes I have to question his decisions, sometimes I feel he chases his happiness without bargaining for the consequences."

"Dad!" Sawyer exclaimed.

"Quiet." His father said in a quiet voice, he was not being unkind or demanding, but the respect that Sawyer had been instilled with for his elders as he grew up, forced him into silence.

Albert smiled. "I'm not here to demoralise anyone's character or to place any pressure on the situation. I'm aware that if this…even is anything…then it's still in the early days."

"Early days? It's barely hatched." Wilhelmina raised an eyebrow. "Look I don't want to be rude, but what's your point?"

Sawyers father shone a smile at her, so similar to his son's it made her grin back. "My point is; my wife is what you might call a follower of the rich and famous. Celebrity scandals are her bread and butter, she's read quite a lot on you Ms Slater."

"I told you, it's Wilhelmina, and you shouldn't believe everything you read."

"Quite." He chuckled. "I'm not concerned with all the tales of evil deeds and misdemeanours; everyone has a past. What I care about is that you are just coming off a highly publicised break up, and from what my wife has told me, yours was quite a love affair."

For the first time since he had followed his son to her home, Albert saw Wilhelmina's eyes flinch at the mention of her failed marriage. She quickly composed herself and righted her stare. "Whatever it was, whatever it was perceived to be, it's over now." She shook her head. "I'm sorry, I've been more than hospitable, letting you into my home and listening to what you have to say, but I am not going to make you any promises, it's way too early for that. You can't show up here, 24 hours in, and ask me to put a label on something I haven't even had time to process yet. I can tell you this though; I do care for him and it is not my intention to hurt him in any way." She held the older mans eyes but she could feel herself under Sawyer's focus.

Albert lifted his Stetson from her kitchen counter. "I guess that's all I can ask for. One more thing though, it's tacky and I hate to bring it up, but with my family it's a necessity; Sawyer, as you know, comes from a very wealthy-"

"Dad stop!" Sawyer jumped from his position in the corner. "That is out of line. Now like she said, she has been more than gracious listening to what you have to say. If I was her I woulda been so freaked out I woulda thrown us both out on our asses, you should go Dad."

"Son, I'm just trying to protect what me and my father before me worked for." He reasoned. "It's better to get this stuff dealt with right at the beginning, then everyone knows where they stand."

Wilhelmina was beginning to lose her good mood once again as she listened to the man basically imply she was a gold-digger. "Not that it's any of your business, but I am about to receive a substantial settlement from my ex-husband, money is not a motivation for me, it never was."

"I apologise, I didn't mean to insult you. I'm just doing what I believe best for my son." He smiled, truly upset he had offended her, he had the same level of tact as all the men in the family. No matter how much finesse he tried to put into his words, he always managed to come across heavy-handed. "For what it's worth…" He took her hand in his and clasped it. "I agree with Sawyer."

With a final smile he walked to the door, his son hot on his heels to see him out. Sawyer opened the door and his father stepped through it, turning to say goodbye to his child. Sawyer leaned across the threshold. "Well?"

Albert brought a hand up to roughly pat Sawyers shoulder. "I like her son. She says what she means, she aint after you for your money and she sure as hell don't suffer no fools. What's not to like?"

Sawyer grinned at his dad, the mans opinion meant more to him than anyone else's. "Thank you Dad."

"But she still has a lot of baggage son, you are walking into a minefield here." His tone sobered. "I hope she's worth it."

"She is." He whispered, closing the door slowly behind his father. Walking back into the kitchen he stopped at the door and watched her as she moved about the room. "I really don't know what to say. I understand if you're completely freaked out, that was…that was…I don't know what the hell that was." He finished, exasperated.

She walked to him, a determined glint in her eye and Sawyer paled. "Look, he's a crazy old man, don't let him put this into a spin, let's just pret-"

She placed a finger to his lips when she was in front of him. "Shut up." She pushed herself in to him and tilted her head to meet his lips. His confusion quickly eased away as he began to respond under her kiss. His hand went to the small of her back to hold her closer, but she pulled her head back, breaking their kiss.

"Okay, not what I was expecting. I aint complainin' but definitely not what I was expecting." He rubbed his hands over her shoulders.

Willie smiled, comfortable in his arms, the impromptu visit by her new lovers father had dispelled the earlier awkwardness between them. "You know what, I don't care. It's fine, refreshing actually, to have someone come in, put their cards on the table and be straight to the point; no games, no bullshit. I've had enough of that to last me." Her hands moved down to his muscular butt and pulled against it, bringing him into even more contact.

"Remind me to send my old man a big ol' bottle of whiskey as a thank you." His smile threatened to split his face as his lips descended on hers again.

Both her hands went into his hair and held his head, as they got lost in the heat of the kiss. He used his hands to push her backward and pressed her against the counter.

"GOD I'M GOOD!" A shrill voice exclaimed, ruining the moment as they quickly pulled apart and looked for the source.

Marc stood grinning in the kitchen doorway, the puppy sitting obediently at his heels taking in the scene before him. "So…I told Betty everything about Mode, she's onboard. She went home, good thing huh?" He leered idiotically. "I'll leave you two to…talk!" he added, sarcastically. "Enjoy the retreat, call me if you need me and I'll come by twice a day to see to Hudson." He moved to leave.

"Marc." Willie called, halting him. "There's no need. Sawyer will be staying here when I'm gone."

"I will?" Sawyer asked her, a smile creeping up.

She looked at him. "If you want to, I kinda want you here when I get back."

Marc rolled his eyes. "I forgot how nauseating you were when you were in the beginnings of a relationship." He gagged.

"You can go." She told him with a warning note in her voice.

With a last fleeting look at the new, unlikely couple, Marc turned and left. When Sawyer heard the door close, he tilted his head at the woman he pulled back into his arms.

"So you want me around huh?"

She tried and failed not to smile at his tease. "Well that, and I don't want to risk you walking some other socialites pooch and falling for her charms."

"Never."

_Now I've learned that love needs expression_

_But I've learned too late_

Monday, mid-morning, Amanda looked around the closet; the grey and purple interior in stark contrast to the orange and white she had called home for years. It was only her first day but she could tell people were avoiding her, talking behind her back and she had heard more than one joke about Penelope keeping her husband out the office while the she was in the building; screwing the spouse of the Editor-In-Chief being her speciality.

She could deal with the bitches and the gossips, she was more than used to it in this business. She was no longer the little girl who had to bitch louder and longer just in order to feel accepted, she was happy getting by on her own merits now, being appreciated for her talent.

She had only pulled together two pieces so far for the upcoming shoot that afternoon, but she had received praise from both Penelope and Carlos Medina. She was glowing with pride, dulled only slightly by the fact that she had no one within the building that she could share her accomplishment with.

The ever present guilt began to gnaw at her again when she recalled the first time she had received praise for her work; it had come from Wilhelmina and the editor had immediately put her name forward to assist at all upcoming Mode shows. She pressed the consuming feeling back down, choosing to replace it with anger towards the woman for all she had caused her in recent weeks. It was easier to stay angry with her, no matter how irrational; anger didn't eat her from the inside like guilt did.

She focussed instead on the good job she had done, the job she would continue to do. She had to tell someone, had to have someone congratulate her and share in her revelry. Amanda thought it was the perfect excuse to call Marc, to try and put the argument they had had behind them. She hated fighting with him, she wanted to forget it had ever happened and most of all she wanted to forget that he had said he would pick Wilhelmina over her.

She picked up the phone and dialled his number. "Hey Marc, guess what!" She greeted him happily when he answered, without giving him a chance to speak.

She heard a deep sigh coming down the phone. "Not now Amanda, I'm up to my eyes in it. Betty and me are in charge of Mode this week and we're only 3 hours on and already WAY behind. I'll talk to you later." He hung up on her.

Amanda stared at the phone, crestfallen. She had no one; Wilhelmina had everyone that she had held dear to her. Daniel was at the retreat with Wilhelmina, no doubt still pining and Marc and Betty were both working for her.

She was alone.

_And she's out of my life_

_She's out of my life_

_Damned indecision and cursed pride_

_Kept my love for her locked deep inside_

Daniel sat behind the wheel of his pride and joy, his Lexus; he hadn't driven outside the city in months. The last time had been when he and Wilhelmina had taken a rare few days away and headed upstate. He grimaced as he recalled that was before they had even married, they hadn't made time for themselves as a couple in over two years, forgoing even a honeymoon in order to concentrate on their new working arrangement with him as CEO.

He was driving it now for three reasons; one, the car he was scheduled to journey to the retreat in was also taking his mother and Wilhelmina there, two, the drive up there could hopefully provide him with the reflection he needed to mentally prepare himself for the week ahead and three, it was more than likely this would be his last chance to drive it, seen as it almost definitely stood to be part of the settlement he was soon to hand over to his ex-wife.

He had been lost in thought, as he had been since the moment he signed the papers, so lost he didn't notice that he had lost his bearings and taken a wrong turn somewhere. He had driven to Talmedge hall on several occasions and he did not recognise anything around him.

He pulled the car over and cursed himself for not taking the GPS upgrade the salesman had offered. Reaching in the glove compartment for a map, he got out the car and spread it across the bonnet. For the first time in his life he was thankful that his parents had forced him into the mundane world of Boy Scouts as a child. Locating his error, he retraced the route and knew where he had to turn back.

He got back in the car and stored the map away, pulling a pair of sunglasses down from his forehead to shield his eyes. He turned the key to rev the engine.

Nothing.

Checking the full gauge, he saw he still had half a tank. He waited a couple of seconds and twisted the key again.

Nothing.

"Shit!"

_And it cuts like a knife_

_She's out of my life_


	15. Just Feel Better

**Just feel better**

_She said I feel stranded  
>And I can't tell anymore<br>If I'm coming or I'm going  
>It's not how I planned it<br>I've got a key to the door  
>But it just won't open<em>

He kicked the tyre violently, the action only resulting in him jumping around, holding his foot in pain. He couldn't believe the bad luck. He was lost in a lost country sideway, probably even forgotten by God himself, with a 50,000$ car that seemed to have no intention to bring him up to Talmedge Hall in the near future.

He looked up and down the street, hoping a car would stop by seeing him in difficulty, but knew perfectly well no respectable person would ever pick up a hitchhiker. Unless it was a twenty year old Russian bimbo, which he clearly wasn't.

He had tried to look into it, reading through the booklet, trying to locate any sign of malfunctioning by opening up the hood, but without any success. He wished he would have attended that mechanics class with Alex, when they were at college. Was mechanics even useful? Oh well, whatever.

"Alex!" he exclaimed, realizing suddenly that his old brother was indeed his only possible resource. After all, the fact that he was now wearing 4-inches heels and didn't have a penis didn't mean they had removed his old brain too. Alexis would know how to help him.

He took out his cell phone, and dialed his sister's overseas number, awaiting her answer. After a couple rings, Alexis picked up, showing off a magnificent French accent.

"Daniel!" she exclaimed into the phone, reacquiring immediately the New York drawl. "I was about to call you anytime, now. Sorry you haven't heard from me in a while, but life's been hectic. I heard about Wilhel-"

"Yes, Alexis, just, wait a second, I need your help."

"Help? What can I do?" Alexis asked, sounding concerned.

"It's the Lexus," he said, dramatically. "It broke down!"

"The Lexus? The 50,000$ Lexus?" Alexis exclaimed, gasping. "What did you do to her!"

Daniel frowned, then snorted and shook his head. "Alexis, it's not Wilhelmina who broke it," he explained. "I did. I mean, not on purpose, it just…I stopped, and when I tried to start the ignition…it was dead. Dead. Not a sound, nothing. The tank is half-full, and I charged the battery yesterday, I checked everything I could think of."

He heard noises in the background and turned around. His mouth fell lightly agape.

"And now there's smoke, coming out of the engine," he whined.

"Black or white?"

"What?"

"The smoke," Alexis said. "Is it black, or is it white?"

Daniel grimaced. "I don't know, it's smoke. Grey, I think."

"Alright, you don't have to worry until the smoke is white. That's when you have to really be concerned. As long as the smoke is grey, it's ok. Anyway, why did you call me again?" Alexis added quickly. "It's not like I have extendable arms and can fix your car from here."

"No, but maybe you could tell me what the hell I have to do now?" he suggested.

"I'm going to tell you the same thing I told you the night we had that accident with Dad's car," she said, and he could almost hear her grin.

"Yeah? _'Daniel you're an idiot, he's gonna kill us'_?" Daniel said, tilting his head.

"No, you smartass," she snapped. "Call Mother."

"No, no way, not a chance in hell," he exclaimed. "She's riding up to Talmedge Hall with Wilhelmina, I'm not going to give her the satisfaction of laughing behind my back."

"Well, then do whatever you want," Alexis exclaimed, disconnecting the call.

He stared at the screen, bewildered. That was supposed to be of any help? Sure as hell he was not going to call his mother, not when he knew Wilhelmina was sitting next to her and would probably have a good laugh hearing his jewel had left him in the middle of the road. He leaned against the car and slid down, sitting on the ground, careless of the grass staining his pants.

He would just wait for a good Samaritan to pick him up.

_And I know, I know, I know  
>Part of me says let it go<br>That life happens for a reason  
>I don't, I don't, I don't<br>Because it never worked before_

The town car abandoned the highway, turned right and began its way through the country side. On both sides, the fields were crowded with rows of vineyards, and perfectly plowed soils, with lonely farmhouses here and there.

"I like this area," Claire said, suddenly, making Wilhelmina turn around. "We should come up here more often. I mean, Manhattan is good for the everyday life, but once in a while, whenever you need an escape from the chaos…Upper state sounds perfect, doesn't it?"

Wilhelmina rolled her eyes. "You wouldn't live a day, in the countryside," she said. "You would feel homesick after the first two hours."

Claire tilted her head and smiled sheepishly. "You're right."

The same awkward silence that had accompanied them the rest of the trip fell in between the two women once again, interrupted by Claire's sighs.

Wilhelmina leaned her head against the headrest and eventually looked at Claire. "Can we talk about this?" she blurted out.

Claire furrowed her forehead and seemed taken aback. "Talk about what?"

"I know Daniel told you about Sawyer, and I know you well enough to understand whenever there's something you want to tell me but are too afraid, or proud, to actually say it. So, I'm giving you the green light. You can talk."

Claire looked down and pulled the gloves finger by finger, placing them on her laps and linking her hands above them. She looked ahead, biting the inner of her cheek.

"Claire," Wilhelmina insisted. "Trust me, as soon as you get whatever you're thinking off your chest it'll be better. Just, drop it all on me."

Claire smiled bitterly and shook her head. "You don't get it, Wilhelmina, do you?" she said, glancing at the former daughter-in-law. "I'm not mad at you. I'm surprised, maybe, at how quickly this is all unfolding, and I'm certainly upset at being so powerless in all of this. But I'm not going to lecture you. It's your life, I can't tell you whether you're doing the right thing or the wrong thing." She paused and looked down. "That would be too easy, wouldn't it?"

"Was that supposed to be a cutting remark?" Wilhelmina asked.

"Nope," Claire answered honestly. "It's just the truth. If I had to tell you what to do, it would be too easy. I'm tired of being in the middle, in this whole situation. It's your life, Daniel's life. You decide what you want to do with your lives, you're grown up people. You can't keep asking me if I think this is the right choice."

"Also because I know you think it's not," Wilhelmina chimed in.

Claire looked deeply into Wilhelmina's eyes. "It's not my business anymore."

Wilhelmina scoffed and threw her hands up in the air. "This is not helping," she stated. "I was hoping you would understand, that you would support my choices because you know what it feels like to feel betrayed. And now you tell me this is none of your business? Hell yes, it is. I was under the impression, and forgive if I was mistaken, that you were willing to help me." She awaited any response on Claire's part, but that didn't come. The woman simply looked at her, tightlipped, refusing to say more. Wilhelmina shook her head. "You think not speaking you will maintain your neutrality, but that's not how it works. Not speaking about this you're telling me you're disappointed I what I'm doing, when in fact you should tell me I should do all in my power to be happy again. Now THIS," she emphasized the word, "is what I call neutral."

The conversation was cut off by the ringing of Claire's cell phone. Wilhelmina eyed the woman as she dug into her purse to find her phone and looked at the screen before glancing at her.

"What?" Wilhelmina asked, trying to sneak a peek at the screen.

"It's Daniel," Claire told her, and snapped the phone opened. "Darling, what's wrong?"

Wilhelmina leaned her elbow against the armchair and rolled her eyes. "Speaking of neutral," she whispered.

_But this time, this time  
>I'm gonna try anything to just feel better<br>Tell me what to do  
>You know I can't see through the haze around me<br>And I do anything to just feel better_

Marc studied the people in the conference room. Everyone, in the staff, was in there, many were standing against the walls, while the editors were sitting around the big circular table. Watching their faces, he could see they were less than impressed at the idea of being led by him and Betty Suarez. He knew what Mode used to be like, whenever the Editors in chief were out on the retreat. The idea of working when, for the past twenty years, they'd taken advantage of that week to overtake the place and turn it into Alcohol Central, hadn't pleased them.

He glanced at his side, where Betty was standing too, looking nervous. She looked at him and stretched her lips in a small, forced smile.

"So…" he began, addressing the room. "I spoke to Wilhelmina his morning, and she mentioned two matters of immediate importance." He paused to look down at the notes in his hands. "First off, Jack, you're in charge for the _Street Fashion_dossier. She said, and I quote, '_If I see one punk wearing studs and metal necklaces, I'll throw Jack off the Brooklyn bridge'_."

The man named Jack chuckled and nodded. "I'm on it. No punks."

Marc nodded, then read on and turned to the woman sitting two chairs away, on his left. "Karen, Wilhelmina wants you to take care of the interviews. And she said she doesn't want to come back to a boring actress spilling about how she stays thin eating junk food, or you will, and I quote again, '_join Jack on that bridge'_."

Karen's eyes darted around the table, then she looked down on her bloc-notes and crossed something that was written down. "I guess that means no Lindsay Lohan," she mumbled.

"You guess right," Marc said, smiling unpleasantly. "Betty, up to you."

Betty smiled and bowed her head lightly. "Thank you Marc," she said, in her usual chipper voice, before turning to the other people in the room. "Let me say how happy and excited I am to be back here, working with all of you, back where I started as-"

"Betty," Marc said, warningly.

The girl cleared her voice, and her smile faltered. "Yes, sorry. Alright, we're going to need someone to cover the monthly _Heart Mailbox_now that Francine is on pregnancy leave. Plus, I want someone to take care of the _Today in Fashion_column."

When no one raised their hand, or volunteered, Betty sighed. "Fine, I'll pick one. Gwen, you'll do it."

"Me?" the girl asked, raising an eyebrow. "I'm way too qualified to take care of a column."

"Well, if you're that qualified it'll be very easy for you," Betty snapped. Then, realizing the tone she'd used, her eyes widened. "I'm sorry," she added quickly.

"Wow, Schmetty Shuarez, that was like having Wilhelmina full flag back in the office for today," Marc said, with a sneer. Betty smiled sheepishly: she wouldn't say it, but that was flattering.

A loud beep interrupted her train of thought, and she looked over Marc who took out his cell phone and read a text message. His eyes widened. "Uh oh."

"What?" she asked, looking down on his cell phone and reading the text. Her head snapped up and they exchanged a look. "Uh oh," she exclaimed, mirroring Marc's reaction.

_And I can't find my way  
>Girl I need a change<br>And I do anything to just feel better  
>Any little thing that just feel better<em>

Eventually, he'd given up, and he'd called his mother. He had waited for an hour, but when it had become clear no one would stop to help him out, he'd caved in. Claire had told him she would take care of it, and he'd given her the exact instructions on what to tell the pickup truck. Unfortunately, that meant he would not be able to continue his journey up north, without his car, and he would have to go back to New York with the truck.

Two hours had passed since he'd called his mother, and he was beginning to question Claire's ability at handling the situation, but he was quickly proven wrong. He heard the loud horn of a truck and stood up, looking down the road, where a huge, green pickup truck was approaching his spot. The vehicle slowed down and pulled up behind his car.

A man got out, and whistled when he saw the Lexus. "Woah, isn't this a little jewel."

Daniel sighed and shrugged. "I don't know what happened," he tried, but the man held up his hand and went to check into the hood. Daniel followed him around the car, trying to say a word or two, but the man was ignoring him. "How long till we get back to New York, in your truck?" he asked.

The man turned around, confused. "You're not coming back with me."

"What?" Daniel asked. "You mean…You're leaving me _here_?"

"No, you're going up north. The lady told me you had a ride," the other man exclaimed, going back to working his magic on the engine. "I think I know what the problem is," he said, suddenly. "But it's not something I can fix here. I really need to bring this baby back to New York."

"Wait, wait," Daniel blurted out. "I don't know what my mother told you, but I don't have a ride."

The man straightened himself up and narrowed his eyes, looking down the street. He lifted the peak of his baseball cap and grinned. "Actually, I think you do sir," he said, pointing at an undefined spot ahead. Daniel followed the man's indication, and noticed the car drawing closer.

Even from afar, he recognized it immediately as Wilhelmina's BMW. He felt his breath stuck in his lungs, the more the car approached the more confused he got. Had Wilhelmina gone all the way back to New York to pick him up? Had she sent her driver?

The car stopped near them, and the window rolled down.

"Good afternoon, folks."

Daniel's mouth went dry, and his fist clenched unconsciously at his sides, when the blond man peeked out the window and smirked at him. "I can't believe it," he muttered under his breath, placing his hands on his hips and looking up to the sky. "She sent her boy toy."

Sawyer shifted his eyes from Daniel to the Lexus, and then to the man who was dialing something on the phone. Then, he looked back at Daniel and bit his bottom lip, killing the engine. "Man, this is going to take ages. Jump in, I'm going to give you a ride up to the retreat."

Daniel looked at Sawyer, biting the inside of his cheek, pondering on what to do. He couldn't miss the retreat, but he wasn't keen on the idea of spending a whole hour with that man. Deciding, however, that his business responsibilities were far more important than his personal tantrums, he nodded and went around the car. He opened the car door and before stepping in, he looked at the man who was still on his phone. "The keys are in the ignition," he said, and the man nodded curtly, saluting him.

He took a seat in the BMW and slammed the door closed, leaning back and pinching the bridge of his nose with his fingers. Sawyer started the engine and sped up on the road, making a U turn and heading back to the highway.

Ten minutes into the ride, the men still hadn't said a word to each other when Sawyer started drumming his fingers on the steer and stealing glances at Daniel.

Daniel, on his part, noticed it and closed his eyes, telling himself that way, maybe, Sawyer would get the drill and stop staring. But that wasn't the case.

"I got Wil- your mother's call a couple hours ago," he said. "Hudson is with Marc. At Mode," he paused, expecting Daniel to join in the hilarity and cachinnate at the idea. He didn't. "I can quite see the little one running all over the place, chewing on everything in sight."

"You don't have to do this," Daniel cut him off, keeping his eyes closed and his head back against the headrest. "This…chatting, and stuff. We don't have to get along. We just…we don't have to try and be friends. We have to be polite, yes, but we don't have to be friends."

Sawyer took a turn and left the highway, this time Daniel recognized it as the right one. "I don't mean to step over your toes, Daniel," Sawyer said, his tone changing drastically. "I'm not taking any pleasure in the situation, with the three of us, but I'm doing my best to live with it. You never wronged me in any way, why should I be less than amiable towards you?"

Daniel's eyes snapped opened, and he turned to look at the man on the driving seat. "Well, you're having sex with the woman I love. Forgive me if I have the slightest resentment towards you."

Sawyer didn't respond to Daniel's statement, though Daniel could tell he was trying hard not to. Daniel was aware he had no right to be angry, he knew he should have seen it coming. A woman such as Wilhelmina doesn't stay alone for a long time. He knew he would have to witness such a thing, eventually, but it was the quickness of the thing that astounded him.

Running a hand through his hair, and sighed. "I'm sorry," he mumbled. "I'm an idiot. I shouldn't tell you these things, I should not take it out on you. Your only fault is being smarter than me."

Sawyer chuckled. "I don't say we have to be friends," he said, with a small smile. "All I'm saying is…we can try and be civil seen as we're unwillingly part of each other's life. I mean, you're Wilhelmina's ex husband. And she loved you like she never loved anyone, as far as I can tell. You will never really be out of her life. No one will ever be quite comparable to you, I'm afraid."

Daniel studied the Sawyer's profile, taking in the bitter acceptance in his voice.

_She said I need you to hold me  
>I'm a little far from the shore<br>And I'm afraid of sinking  
>You're the only one who knows me<br>And who doesn't ignore  
>That my soul is weeping<em>

"Someone kill that dog!" the seamstress yelled, covering her ears with both hands.

Marc and Betty were in Wilhelmina's office, with Hudson, and the dog hadn't stopped whining for a second, ever since Sawyer had dropped him off. They were both sitting on the floor, crosslegged, trying to throw little furry things at the dog, to entertain him, but every effort resulted in louder howling.

"This is a tragedy!" Betty complained, falling back onto the carpet. Marc mimicked her and they stood side by side, looking at the ceiling while Hudson continued his blood curling whining feast.

Hudson began to go round and round, in circles, trying to catch his tail. Bumping into Wilhelmina's small coffee table, he knocked a vase down, which fell to the floor smashing into pieces. Betty and Marc didn't even look, simply shutting their eyes at the noise.

"She's going to kill us for that," Betty said.

"Not if she satisfies her killing urges through the retreat's week," Marc said, hopeful. "I mean, one whole week with Daniel, into the woods. That can't be good, can it?"

"I still don't understand why they called Sawyer to and pick him up," Betty wondered, looking up at the ceiling.

"Claire wanted Daniel to go up north, and all the town cars were taken for the week," Marc explained what Sawyer had told him when he'd dropped Hudson off. "And Wilhelmina's driver, who happens to be Claire's too, was already taking them up to Talmedge Hall. So…that only left Sawyer."

"No, that's not true," Betty said, shaking her head. "There were tons of other options. Just say Wilhelmina wanted Sawyer and Daniel to try and play best pals. Or you know what, maybe she was just looking for an excuse to have Sawyer join her on the retreat."

"Or both."

"Yeah," Betty agreed. "You know what, Marc? It's none of our business," she stated, sitting up straight. "Our business is shutting this beautiful but terrible dog up!"

As if he'd somehow heard what she was saying, Hudson stopped whining and looked at her, tilting his head to the side.

"Marc, it creeps me out but this dog is the canine version of Wilhelmina," Betty said, slowly, looking into the dog's big eyes. In that moment, Hudson snarled at her, showing his teeth. "Why is he snarling at me, Marc?"

"I think your sweater hurts his eyes," Marc said, grinning.

_I know, I know, I know  
>Part of me says let it go<br>Everything must have a season  
>Round and round it goes<br>And every day's the one before_

Twenty minutes later, Sawyer and Daniel had abandoned the urban environment to enter the countryside. Daniel was staring outside, absentmindedly, thinking about the week ahead of him. He was glad Sawyer wouldn't be there, but Wilhelmina's presence alone was enough to make him uncomfortable.

Not because she was scared of her, or what she might say, but rather because of the issue that lay unresolved between them. He wanted to let her go, he was willing to do anything in his power to make her happy, and if that meant watching her live a life that didn't include him, so be it. But if he had to do that while they were in the same place, day and night, sharing meals and meetings…He wasn't sure he could trust himself to stay away from her.

Other than what she wanted, he was also scared for himself, his well being. He wanted to fix himself, go on with his life and start over; how could he do that, if she was always before him? How could he move on, when his eyes would always be fixed on something that kept him anchored to a past that no longer existed?

"Can I ask you something?" Sawyer's question interrupted his thoughts, and he looked at him, raising his eyebrows. "What do you do on this retreats? I tried and ask Wilhelmina, but she just mumbled something on them being a complete loss of time."

Daniel snorted. "She never liked these retreats," he said. "It's just a matter of getting to know the other Editors, and a way for us in charge of the company to make them feel appreciated. Long story short, it's just a means to keep them happy and keep the complaints to a minimum."

He didn't say, however, that for the past four years those retreats had become the only week of the year he and Wilhelmina could be together without concerns, without anyone chiming in their lives. He kept it to himself, like he would the rest of their married life.

Sawyer grinned. "I'm glad I don't have to be there, then," he exclaimed. "I'm not one to enjoy those people, all dolled up, talking about their money, and dresses, and…other stupid things."

"Then why are you with Wilhelmina?"

The two looked at each other, and there, for the first time, they both smiled, and burst out laughing.

_But this time, this time  
>I'm gonna try anything that just feels better<br>Tell me what to do  
>You know I can't see through the haze around me<br>And I do anything to just feel better_

Wilhelmina was anxious. She would kick herself, for suggesting that, but when the situation had arose that had seemed the only solution. She should have kept her mouth shut, she knew it. How could she be sure Daniel would not kill Sawyer in a rage fit? How had she even thought that having Sawyer and Daniel stuck in a car together for hours could be a good idea?

She was glancing nervously at the gates from the window. Behind her, all the Editors were enjoying their welcome cocktails, but still she knew they were looking at her and gossiping about her and Daniel's divorce. She could feel their stares burn through her clothes, but she didn't care. All she wanted, now, was to see her car driving safely through the gates, and to know that Sawyer and Daniel were both still breathing.

"Still no sign of them?" came Claire's voice, as the woman approached her and stood by her side, looking down the same window.

Wilhelmina shook her head, sighing. "You think something happened?" she asked. "It's been two hours since Sawyer sent me a text and told me he'd picked Daniel up. What if they got into a fight? What if they had an accident?"

Claire smiled. "Look at you, all worried for your men."

Wilhelmina turned to look at her and shrugged. "Don't get your hopes up, I'm just worried about Sawyer. I know Daniel, and he can be dangerous when he has his attacks."

Claire nodded, patronizingly, taking a sip from the drink in her hands.

"I hope that's a club soda, you're drinking," Wilhelmina said, eyeing the glass before returning her stare on the window. "Oh my God, there they are!"

A car that she recognized immediately as her white BMW had just sped up through the gates, up the neat pebbly road. She turned her back on the tall window and rushed to the door, closing it behind her. She looked the hall, up and down, and hurried across the room towards the big entrance. Just as she was about to step out, Daniel and Sawyer appeared on the threshold.

She sighed in relief and smiled, walking past Daniel and to Sawyer, who leaned in to kiss her. She noticed the man pulling back almost too quickly, and she frowned. Looking over her shoulder, she saw Daniel looking at the scene, and seeing the sadness in his eyes she stepped back from Sawyer.

"How was the journey?" she asked, looking at both.

Sawyer and Daniel smirked at each other, and the latter shrugged. "Absolutely fine," he said.

A noise in the background, and the next thing they knew Claire was rushing down the stairs, an amused smirk on her lips. "Honey, how's the Lexus?" she asked, approaching Daniel and hugging him.

Wilhelmina turned to Sawyer, taking advantage of Claire's presence to take Daniel's mind off them, and leaned closer, placing a hand on Sawyer's arm. "Really, how was it?" she whispered. "Was he a jerk? I swear if he was a jerk to you, he's going to hear me."

Sawyer pulled her into a big bear hug, ignoring Wilhelmina's body stiffening at such public displays of affection. "Stop worrying your little head, or your hair will become all frizzy."

Wilhelmina looked up at him, trying to disentangle herself. "Don't you ever say that again," she exclaimed. "That's a curse."

Sawyer smiled and leaned in, brushing his lips against hers. She sneaked her arms around his neck and stood on the tip of her toes to meet him. He smiled against her lips and rubbed her lower back. Pulling back a little but still keeping her tight, he tilted his head. "I have to go. I left Hudson with Marc, I'm not even sure he'll be still alive when I get back."

"Who, Marc or Hudson?" she asked, joking.

Sawyer pinched her side and let her go. "I'll see you in a week then," he said.

Meanwhile, unbeknownst to Sawyer and Wilhelmina, Daniel and Claire had turned their attention to the conversation they were having, and the woman was squeezing her son's hand in sympathy.

Wilhelmina smiled wickedly, and he turned to leave. She watched his back draw further, and just when he was at the bottom of the steps that led up to the big oak door they were standing on, she took a few steps forwards and called out after him. He looked back, puzzled.

"Why…why don't you…" she began, stuttering.

Daniel squeezed his mother's hand tighter. "Don't," he whispered to himself. "Wilhelmina, don't, please don't." He was speaking to himself, but his mother could hear his prayers and stood closer to him.

"Why don't you stay?" she asked, looking at the man standing just a few meters away. "I mean, I hate these things…and maybe, if you were here…I could be more accommodating. And who knows, maybe I won't have to commit suicide."

Daniel's eyes moved on Sawyer, and he hoped the man would tell her no, that he would tell her how much he hated those meetings too, and those people, just like he had told him an hour before. He hoped he would turn around and go, and leave them alone.

"Shall I need to book a room?" Sawyer asked, grinning wickedly.

"No need for that," she said. "You'll stay with me."

Claire felt Daniel's hand slip out of her grip, and the man walked away, up the stairs, disappearing behind a corner. She looked at Wilhelmina, who had noticed Daniel's quick escape and was now looking at the place where he'd last been. Then, looking into Claire's eyes, Wilhelmina met the hardness of the woman, who shook her head, and stormed off, going after her son.

When she turned again to look at Sawyer, he was already back on her side, looking down on her. "You need to be softer, with him. He's not in a good place."

"He's got a tough skin," she said, her previous cheerfulness gone, dissipated by Daniel's reaction. "Plus, I've had to go through worse, don't you think?"

He nodded, despite not being in total agreement with her, this time. He felt sorry, for Daniel, and he would do all he could to keep these awkward situations to a minimum, but something told him Wilhelmina would not. That she wouldn't be happy till he was down on the floor, in agony.

Changing subject, he cleared his throat and smiled brightly. "I don't have any clothes, here with me," he said.

"We'll have them brought up here."

"How about Hudson?"

"Marc can take care of him," she said, not missing a beat.

Sawyer's smile grew wider. "You really have everything planned out, have you?"

In response, Wilhelmina took his hand and led him through the hall, ignoring the stares coming from the Editors that had now sneaked out the room they'd been having their welcome cocktails in, and were now staring down the balustrade, whispering.

"Where are we going?" he asked.

She looked over her shoulder. "My room," she said. "You need to get acquainted with the place, don't you?" she added, smiling wickedly.

_I can't find my way  
>God I need a change<br>And I'd do anything to just feel better  
>Any little thing that just feel better<em>

Fey looked at the blue door she was standing before, and was mesmerized at how, for the first time in decades, she was nervous. Not slightly agitated, oh no, way worse. Her palms were sweating, her heart was beating faster than it should, her breathing was accelerated. Her mouth was completely dry, and she asked herself how was she supposed to speak in those conditions.

Especially seen how what she had to say was not a mere greeting. She had to explain her daughter why she had abandoned her, before she could even give her a chance to make her love her. She had to tell her why, in all those years, she'd never visited, not even pretending to be an old friend. She had to explain why, after Amanda had been hired at Mode, despite the closeness, not once ha she lifted her gaze to meet her daughter's. She had to explain why, all of a sudden, she had decided that she wanted to disappear, and why it wasn't until now that she had showed up at her door.

Fey knew Amanda had found out about her, which made it all more difficult to face it because, in all these years, the girl had the chance to form her own ideas. She couldn't start to think of what her mind might have conjured up, while she was looking for explanation on why her mother had abandoned her.

She had never been more scared, in the past twenty years. The reason of her fears was the awareness of being the one who had something to prove, the awareness that she might be rejected and yelled at for her past wrongdoings, and this time there was nothing that could keep her from getting what she deserved.

With a deep breath, she knocked on the door and waited, holding the fur tight against her body, wrapping herself, shielding herself maybe. When the door opened, and she looked into the eyes of the broken girl standing on the threshold her heart ached.

"You're Amanda, right?" she said, her voice softening unexpectedly.

Amanda frowned, looking the woman from head to toe, lips slightly parted, unable to say a word.

"I'm sure you know who I am," Fey said, letting her arms fall down her sides.

Amanda gripped the doorknob tighter. "Mother."

_I'm tired of holding on  
>To all the things I ought to leave behind, yeah<br>It's really getting old, and  
>I think I need a little help this time<em>


	16. Misery

**Misery**

_Shadows are fallin' all over town  
>Another night and these blues got me down<br>Oh, misery! I sure could use some company_

"Mother."

As soon as the word left her mouth, the ridiculousness of it echoed back to her and she began shaking her head furiously; eyes glued to the ghost before her. The ghost of her past, of the mother she never knew. "No." The single syllable came out in a trembling breath. "No, no...just...no."

The sight before her was a fantasy she had let herself slip into several times since she learned the true identity of her mother; that she had indeed faked her death as many believed and that one day she would come to seek out the baby girl she abandoned. Faced with it now, however, her brain simply could not compute the presence at her door.

In her little daydreams of what life would have been like if she were ever to be reunited with her mother, she came up with endless scenarios of their first encounter, none of which would come to the forefront of her mind at that moment as she continued staring at the unmistakable face of her birth mother.

"Amanda..."

"NO!" She shouted, in complete shock and terror and slammed the door closed. She backed away from it slowly, willing herself to wake up. Only when she felt the bitter salt on her lip did she realise silent tears were dripping from her eyes, her breath caught in her chest as she took steadying breaths, the beat of her heart pounding in her ears. "Go away." She whispered in a weak voice, backing further from the door.

A soft rap resonated loudly in the stillness of her apartment. "Amanda..." The woman on the other side tried again.

"I said GO AWAY!" The last two words were a pleading screech from the young woman. "You're not her, you're not her, you're not her." She chanted the mantra to herself, the cycle of words giving her something to focus on.

"Amanda, open the door...you know who I am."

Amanda squeezed her eyes closed as the voice came muffled through the door. "No...it's not, it's a trick, SHE put you up to this, she's ruining my life a step at a time and now she's trying to screw with my head. Well I'm not falling for it!" Her voice regained some strength, though try as she might, she couldn't stop the trail of wetness snaking down her cheeks. "You tell Wil-"

"Eight pounds and 3 ounces, sixteen minutes past two, January fourteenth, 1982." The strong voice carried over Amanda's protests.

Amanda fell silent as she heard those words, her head fit to burst as she tried to piece together how that could possibly be who it seemed to be at the door. "Anyone could find all that out." She tried to reason, mostly to convince herself.

"Well open the damn door and I'll show you my god damn Caesarean scar!" The woman was sarcastic and as the impatient edge came back to the voice, Amanda recognized it immediately, no one could incite goose-bumps quite like Fey Sommers. She knew in that instant that it was the same voice she used to hear snap at every one from the UPS guy to her Creative Director, her mother was truly behind that door.

Although still several feet away from the door, Amanda tentatively reached her hand out towards the doorknob as she took slow steps towards it. The ten second journey across the apartment was nowhere near enough time for her to assimilate the events of the last five minutes. Her hand came into contact with the brass handle to the door and instantly slipped off, her hands sweating. Raising her hands again, she gripped it tightly and twisted, the sharp click of the door release sounding like a gun-shot to her ears. Pulling the door open, inch by inch, she slowly revealed her mother's form until they stood face to face once again and she stared into a pair of eyes so similar to her own.

"I know this is a shock..." Fey began, no emotion in her voice.

"A shock?" Amanda managed to let out a small laugh, her voice now strangely calm. "A shock? For someone who always had a way with words, I'd say your downplaying this situation just a bit."

Fey pursed her lips, irrationally expecting a modicum of respect from her daughter. "Must we do this touching reunion in your hallway?" She tried to move past her but Amanda brought her arm up to the doorframe, blocking her entry.

Fey put her hand on the arm Amanda had raised and the younger woman's eyes were drawn to where their skin made contact. That was her mother's hand on her arm; her _mother's._No other thoughts could register in that moment other than that of the woman touching her, whose existence she found out too late.

Fey gently increased pressure on Amanda's arm until it fell listlessly from the door frame, the girl having no energy left to fight it. Fey slipped though the gap it created and Amanda stepped back automatically as she closed the door.

Amanda looked to the woman she had so many questions for. She settled for the only one she could think of through the cacophony of emotions in her mind. "Why now?"

Her mother smiled sadly. "Because you need me."

_Since he's been gone I ain't been the same  
>I carry the weight like an old ball and chain<br>Guess its all meant to be  
>For love to cause me misery<em>

She had barely led him over the threshold, when he spun and closed the door with one hand and pushed her up against it roughly with the other. His hand immediately grabbing at her hip and pressing himself into her as his mouth found hers in an urgent kiss, the force and surprise of it eliciting a groan from her. It amazed her how turned on this man could get her in such a short space of time.

Sawyer pulled his head back, keeping his body pressed against her, and smiled down on Willie. "I couldn't give you the greeting I wanted to before."

"Why ever not?" She asked with an amused smirk.

He chuckled. "Because, I'm not as mean as you."

Wasting no time, she brought her elbows to rest on his shoulders and wove both her hands in his blonde locks. "Stick around kid, I'll show you the ropes."

Moving to the tips of her toes, she clashed her lips to his again, needing his touch to erase her feeling of unease at being so close to her ex-husband, to wipe away the look on his face when he saw her greet Sawyer, which was etched firmly in her mind. Pushing away from the door, needing to regain control, she brought her hands down to his toned stomach and pushed him backwards towards the impressive four poster bed in the centre of the room.

Sawyers legs hit the mattress and he held tight to her hips to keep him upright, responding to her invading kisses. Wilhelmina's fingers moved quickly over the black shirt he wore, undoing each button nimbly, itching to get her hands on the chest underneath. She pushed it from his shoulders and it fell out of sight. He needed her skin against his and began pulling the straps of her dress down, mouth moving to place rough kisses on them. Just as her eager hands reached for his belt buckle the door to the room swung open.

Wilhelmina had her back to the door, but Sawyer got a full view of the agony that crossed Daniel's face as he was met with the two of them pawing at each other. Wilhelmina found herself being pushed away from her lover's touch and she followed his eyes to the door, into the pained eyes of her ex-husband. She hastily straightened the straps on her shoulders, but Sawyer could do nothing to hide his state of undress, not that it mattered as Daniel had just caught a front row view of his own worst nightmare.

"What the hell are you doing?" Wilhelmina barked and Daniel tried to ignore the laboured breaths she took.

Sawyer ran his hand over his face, feeling real empathy for the man; he had felt his pain the whole ride up here and after maintaining a level of civility with his lover's ex, he had managed to bring it crashing down less than thirty minutes after they arrived. There was no point pretending that nothing was happening, it would be an insult to Daniel's intelligence; in any case, they weren't doing anything wrong. That didn't stop the guilt he felt when he saw how what little light had been in Daniel's eyes, extinguish when the door had opened.

"I...I guess my Mom forgot to change the suites, we've always been booked in here...together. I'm sorry." His tone was robotic, his brain still seeing the woman he loved in the arms of another, even though they were now feet apart.

Wilhelmina snorted and rolled her eyes, her hands on her hips just like the many, many times she had brought him to his knees before he knew he could love her. "Thrilling, why don't you write that little story down and tell it at dinner? Leave!" Her eyes flashed dangerously as she emphasised the last word.

Daniel bowed his head, feeling stupid and hurt all at once for what he had witnessed and began to close the door. "We have to be at a meeting to go over our itinerary in twenty minutes." He told her, trying to maintain a level of professionalism.

Wilhelmina looked at Sawyer and back to Daniel, a one-sided smirk creeping over her features. "Give me forty-five." She drawled as the door started closing, she saw the door stop moving momentarily and knew Daniel had heard her. She turned away when she heard it click closed, her intruding ex having finally departed forlornly.

She turned back to Sawyer, a new light in her eyes and reached for him again. He brought his hand up to hold her wrist, stopping her going further and was looking at her with a strange expression. "That was harsh." He told her softly.

"Excuse me? You do remember how that man humiliated me...what he did?"

He nodded slowly, keeping her gaze. "But he's the one hurting now Wil, you didn't need to send him away with his tail between his legs."

She huffed, pulling her hand back. "It was his tail between someone else's legs that got him in this situation in the first place." She saw Sawyer's lips quirk slightly at her words and she grinned predatory at him. "Now do you want to fight? Or do you want to fuck? Either way I can assure you I'll get off." She narrowed her eyes, but still smiled, playing with him.

After a split second more of staring in her expressive eyes, Sawyer felt himself crack and reached for her, Willie felt the cloud around them lift when she saw his face-splitting smile once again adorn his face. He dipped his head and nipped at her neck, running his lips up the side until they rested against her ear.

"Just lock the door this time."

_Oh misery! Oh misery!  
>Tell me why does my heart make a fool of me<br>Seems it's my destiny  
>For love to cause me misery<em>

"Look, we can just drop him off and then head back to the office, I'm sure he'll be fine in the apartment for a couple of hours." Marc trudged up the stairs of his building, Betty by his side and a wriggling Hudson in his grasp.

Betty heaved in a breath. "I need to be here why?"

"I need you to distract Amanda with something shiny while I put the puppy in my room, she never really took to any dog but Halston and even that's only because he came with a thousand dollar a week payment. Plus if she really is as inexplicably angry with Wilhelmina as you say I can't guarantee she won't bake him into a pie." He laughed and brought his face to Hudson's muzzle, speaking in a baby voice.

Reaching his door he inserted the key and twisted the knob; the door wouldn't budge. "Weird." He spoke mostly to himself. "Mandy must have the dead bolt on." He pounded on the door. "Mandy! Mandy, open up!"

Both Betty and Marc listened hard as they heard the scrape of a chair and hurried footsteps within the apartment. The sound of the large bolt being slid back could be heard through the door and within seconds Amanda had opened it and was ushering them in.

"Amanda, what's going on? Is someone here?" Marc asked, sure he heard more than one set of footsteps as he stood outside.

"NO!" She answered too quickly. "I mean, no there isn't."

Marc narrowed his eyes, not believing her for a second, "Okay, fine, look I need to leave the dog here. Do not feed it candy corn, let it drink from the toilet and do not try and give him a makeover. It took me five hours to get the polish off his claws the last time I did it, Wilhelmina was not amused." Marc dumped the furry ball into Amanda's arms and the dog quickly became agitated, squirming to get away and baring his little teeth.

"This is Wilhelmina's dog?"

Marc nodded, and Amanda yelped as the puppy nipped the skin on her hand with his little fangs. Hudson leapt from Amanda's hold, caring not about the larger than normal drop from her arms, to the floor, and hurried back to stand at Marc's feet.

"OW!" Amanda shook her hand, airing the small bite mark in between her thumb and forefinger. "Did she train him to do that?"

Marc shrugged. "Probably. Look, we have to go back to the office. I'll be back in time to walk him, just don't kill him. You stay in your corner, he'll stay in his and you'll both get through the day in one piece."

A thud suddenly permeated the room, coming from behind the closed door to Amanda's bedroom. "There is someone here." Marc leered, smiling at her. "I thought you looked a little flushed."

Amanda's eyes flickered to her doorway nervously, Marc leaned in and gave her a quick squeeze around her shoulders; the first voluntary contact he had given her in days and Amanda wanted to crumble under it, under his acceptance. She wanted to tell him who was behind that door, she wanted to lean on him in what was quickly becoming the most confusing time in her life. Instead she straightened up, forcing herself to smile at him, to pretend everything was alright. "You two get back to Mode, leave Kujo with me and I'll see you later."

Marc smiled at her, a genuine wide smile that reached to his eyes and linked arms with Betty, pulling her outside the apartment. "Why are you so giddy all of a sudden?" Betty asked him once the door was firmly closed and the dead bolt could be heard sliding back into place.

"She has a man in there." He trilled.

"So?"

"Soooo she's having herself a little afternoon delight with a man who is clearly not Daniel, seen as Willie made Mr Hot Sauce drive him up to the retreat. She's moving past this Betty, she's finally letting go of her obsession with Daniel."

He squeezed Betty's arm happily, still smiling at the prospect of having his friend back; looking forward to the day when he didn't feel stuck in the middle of the two people he cared for most. Betty looked at his jubilant expression and didn't have the heart to tell him otherwise.

Back in the apartment, Amanda leaned against the re-bolted door and watched as her bedroom door creaked open and Fey came back out. "Where were we?" The older woman asked, her hand smoothing down her trademarked bob.

"Somewhere in between you telling my why you abandoned me, not once, but twice, and you giving me a lecture you have absolutely no right to give." Amanda said, surprised by the level of malice she heard in her own voice.

"I have no time for these dramatics Amanda." She said shortly.

"No time? For the past thirty years you haven't even given me one second and you have no time? What did you think I would do, fall into your arms, tell you I forgive you and I understand? Maybe I would if I had any answers...but I have nothing!" Amanda could feel the hysteria building in her.

"Fine." Fey stalked into the middle of the room, her domineering presence commanding Amanda's attention. "Firstly, I do not care for the word_abandoned_, I did not leave you wrapped in a blanket in Central Park you know! I left you with a family I knew and trusted, a family who wanted a child far more than I ever did and who could give it more love than I ever could, can you look me in the eye and tell me I'm wrong? That I made a mistake? Was your childhood not a happy one, were you not loved? Of course you were, I made damn sure of it, I knew every step you took and every word you said, I may not be maternal Amanda, but your happiness was paramount to me!"

Amanda just stared at the woman in front of her, not wanting to interrupt her thoughts and risk her stopping. Her mother evidently wasn't expecting a response and carried on. "When I made myself disappear all those years ago, I made sure you still had people keeping an eye on you, trying to steer you in the right direction, obviously they made a half assed job of it, considering your current predicament."

"What do you mean?" Amanda asked in her naivety.

Fey scoffed. "Don't act with me Amanda, you're my child and I can read you like a book. I know you are fooling yourself into thinking you could have something with Daniel Meade, I see the same look in your eyes that I used to hold for his father. I want you to learn from my mistakes Amanda."

Amanda sat down, looking up at her mother, letting the ice wall fall; "But Bradford loved you." She stated.

A small wistful smile played over Fey's features as she remembered her lost love. "He may have done...but never as much as Claire. No matter how I tried to convince myself that I was the love of his life, it was her, always was." Fey sat opposite Amanda and reached across the table for her hand, stopping just inches from it, unsure if her daughter would want such contact, taking a breath she grasped it firmly. "Don't you see, I may have had him in my bed, but I was never the one in his heart, not really. You might indeed get your wish and get his son by your side, but like his father before him, it will be his wife who occupies that place inside."

"_Ex-wife._" Amanda clarified.

"You think that means anything? You go to Claire and ask her if she thinks of Bradford as her ex-husband, after all, they were divorced were they not? Of course she won't , that divorce did nothing to change her feelings for him, just as Daniel hasn't changed his feelings towards Wilhelmina."

Amanda tried to snatch her hand away, not wanting to hear the words she knew to be true. "Amanda, listen to me!" Her mother implored. "Some day, I imagine Daniel will indeed move on, he will get some pretty little filly stupid enough to take him on, give him children and the life he _thinks_ he's supposed to have. That woman will be lavished with gifts and material possessions, because it will be all he can give her, everything that matters he has already given to Wilhelmina and it will stay with her forever. That woman will forever be second place to her, will never live up to her shadow. That's why I came for you now...I can't let you settle for that, you deserve better, you deserve a man who loves you above all others, you deserve to be number one."

Fey's hand slipped from Amanda's; Amanda watched her slump back in her chair. "You have no idea how much it hurts to live a life when you're no one's priority."

Amanda watched her mother's eyes glaze over and knew she was lost in the past; in memories of Bradford. "I was once stupid enough to think I was his everything, that he would leave her and finally be with me. He told me couldn't because he had signed ownership of Mode over to Claire and didn't want to risk her taking it from me...I think he signed it over to her to make damn sure he had that excuse for me when I put pressure on him to leave her. You know, at one time, I even thought I was carrying his child; I expected him to be happy, to finally have a child with the real person he loved, when I told him his face paled and he moved from that room as fast as his legs could carry him. The relief I saw in his eyes when I told him it was a false alarm, still hurts me to this day."

"So you would have happily raised his bastard child...but not me?" Amanda was hurt but not shocked by the revelation, her mother had shown her no real display of affection since she had deigned to walk into her life mere hours ago.

"I am not repeating myself Amanda, the end of the line is; you do not love him and he does not love you...he never will. You need to let this fantasy go, it will never end in happiness and you do not want to make more of an enemy of Wilhelmina than you already have."

"I don't care."

Fey's eyes flashed. "Well you should! To sleep with a married man is one thing Amanda, to sleep with the man SHE is married to is quite another." Fey stood up, tried to appear the imposing figure she always had in the past. "Now I am telling you, drop this! Focus on your career and stay away from Daniel Meade."

Amanda stood up to meet her. "And why would I listen to you?"

"I am your mother."

"No you're not, you're the woman who gave birth to me. My mother's name is Rosemary Tanen. I'd like you to leave...Ms Sommers." Amanda sounded much braver than she felt.

Fey smirked, she could see some of her younger self looking back at her in those impudent eyes. She walked to the door and turned the knob, putting her sunglasses and scarf back on as she opened the door, hiding her identity once again.

"I'll be in touch."

_And, oh! I've been down this road before  
>With a passion that turns into pain<br>And each I saw love walk out the door  
>I swore never get caught again<em>

The next morning, Wilhelmina stretched as she opened her eyes, the morning sun casting the man standing beside the bed in shadow. "Morning." She mumbled sleepily as the beginnings of a smile played on her lips.

She shivered slightly as the cover around her was pulled away, the cold air assaulting her naked body for only a second before she was pinned under the warmth of Sawyer as he clambered back into the bed, resting on top of her, pressing lazy kisses to her jaw as his hand moved down her, massaging the aching flesh he had held onto so tightly the night before.

Instantly responding to his touch, she pushed at his until he was on his back quickly straddled him. Sawyer brought his hands to her back and brought himself up to kiss her. Just as he felt herself stirring against him, the alarm shrilled loudly beside the bed. She groaned and pushed him back to the mattress gently.

"I have to get up, I've got to give a stupid talk to the rest of the Editors about how to run a _successful_magazine, I swear, sometimes I feel like Mode is the only thing keeping Meade running."

She tried to swing her leg over him to get out the bed but Sawyer held her hips still and thrust up against her, making her gasp. "C'mon now, you're the boss, you can't be late, they're just early."

She froze immediately under his touch, his argument sounding too close to Daniel's. He wasn't what she needed in her mind right now, she didn't want to be faced with thoughts of her ex as she sat astride another man. Sawyer noticed the rigidity of her body and knew he said something which hit a nerve, but he didn't know what. Reluctantly he let her go and she climbed from the bed, pulling a robe around her.

She silently made her way to the bathroom and pulled her hair up and twisted it into a clip, staring in the mirror. The rest of the day after Sawyer and Daniel arrived had been ridiculously uneventful. Sawyer had felt uncomfortable in the presence of everyone from the Meade building, he felt they were all wrongly judging him as the other man and truthfully, a part of him thought that she was parading him to make Daniel jealous. He had stayed at dinner only for as long as was necessary and then came back to her room. Wilhelmina had followed shortly after, having found it too hard to stay in the same room with Daniel and Claire, who was in obvious support of her son and had barely glanced at Wilhelmina the whole night.

Daniel had tried at all costs to avoid meeting her eyes, but when she wasn't looking she could feel his stare burning her and on the rare occasions she met his eyes she couldn't help but feel pulled under by the hurt she saw in them. This week was going to be hard enough for him, and now she had to add Sawyer to the mix. It was a new level of cruelty, one the Wilhelmina of four years ago would be proud of. That wasn't her anymore.

She jumped when she saw Sawyer behind her in the reflection of the mirror, unaware of how long he had been standing there. If he had seen her lost in thought he didn't push her on it. "So what's on your schedule after this talk?"

She shrugged, the pair still looking at each other via the mirror. "Nothing, I have the talk 'til noon, then it's lunch which I have no intention of going to anyway. If you want I can show the grounds in the afternoon, you said you wanted to see them; and that way..." She grinned and turned around, walking past him back into the room. She reached into the wardrobe and pulled out a long narrow case. "...I get to use this." She was still smiling as she unzipped the case and took out the rifle, letting the familiar weight settle in her hands.

"You really weren't kidding about having Daniel in agony were you?" Sawyer joked, squinting at the fire-arm. "You're not doing what I think you're doing are you?"

She pouted. "If you think I'm going to lure Daniel into the woods and put a bullet between his eyes, then unfortunately no."

"But you are going hunting?"

She nodded at him and his mouth fell open. "Willie, that's barbaric! You can count me out, there is no way I'm going hunting, and I'd prefer if you didn't while I was here either."

"Oh for God's sake, please don't tell me I'm dating a liberal!"

"Hunting is just wrong Wil, how can you defend the act of going out and killing a creature for sport."

"Look, you eat meat don't you?" She asked calmly and he nodded. "Well then stop being a hypocrite, you think the animals you eat just roll over and die? No they are slaughtered and sometimes not as humanely as an animal that has been hunted."

"There's a difference between killing for sustenance and killing for fun."

She scoffed at him. "Oh that's convenient!" She shouted, not willing to have her choices questioned. "I am going hunting this afternoon. Come if you want, don't if you don't but either way I am." She walked back into the bathroom.

"Well I'm not! And neither are you!" He shouted at her, the first time he'd raised his voice to her since she'd met him.

Her eyes widened, if there was one thing she hated, it was people telling her what she could do. "I'll let that one go, but it's the first and last time you try and tell me what to do. Now I AM going, feel free to explore the grounds without me. Go hug a tree, smoke your hemp pants and braid your god damn hair." She slammed the bathroom door in his face.

_But ain't it true? It takes what it takes  
>And sometime we get too smart to leave<br>One more heartache for me  
>Another night of misery<em>

The talk had gone down well, how could it not, when she ran the most successful magazine in Meade publishing. It had ended earlier than expected, because she hadn't stuck around for the Q&A session that was scheduled to run after it, she never did; she had offered up her words, if they didn't take what they needed from that then they were too stupid to be in this business anyway.

When she had gone back to the room to get changed before heading outside, the room was empty. Sawyer and her had petulantly ignored each other when she came out of the bathroom earlier. She had wanted to try and make peace with him after the talk, but he was nowhere to be seen. The clothes that she had sent for, for him, still hung in the closet, so at least she knew he was still at Talmadge Hall.

Her bad mood at her predicament with Sawyer, was not helped by founding out that Daniel was in the suite opposite them. _"It was all they had left."_He had offered feebly when she found out.

Now she was trudging through the dense undergrowth in the grounds, her rifle up to her jaw as she took silent steps, listening for any sound in the distance. She heard something off to her right and retraced her steps backwards, deciding which path to take when she suddenly collided with something and jumped as she heard the barrel of a gun discharge.

Whipping round quickly, heart in her mouth and nerves jangling, she faced Daniel who looked as if he had gotten as big a surprise as she did when he backed into her, his resulting fright had caused him to discharge his firearm.

"Well done Jackass! You've just sent every bit of wildlife in a three mile radius, running for the hills!"

"Well how was I supposed to know you were skulking about in here!"

"I'm hunting, it's called being stealthy Einstein, you might want to look into it! Why are you out here anyway? You suck at hunting."

He shrugged, "Needed a release, what's better than killing something?" He started walking further into the woods, rifle over his shoulder.

"I could think of something."

He stopped in his tracks and turned. "Stop, okay, please, I'm begging you. I get it, you threw yourself at him the minute we got here, I've walked in on you twice now and if you think I can't see the marks on your neck and shoulders then you're fucking crazy. I get it ok, you're fucking him, I get it!"

"Don't you dare! I'm doing nothing wrong, we're divorced Daniel, you are my colleague and that's it. You're going to have to get used to it, because if it's not Sawyer it will be someone else; but it will never be you, not again."

"SIX WEEKS WILLIE!" He exploded at her. "Six fucking weeks we've been apart and you're with someone else. I could understand if it was sex Wil, I really could. I could understand if it was you wanting to get back at me for the fucking awful thing I did to you, I could understand that you just wanted the human contact. But you're _with him,_with him. I see the way you look at him, how could someone mean so much to you so soon after our marriage, did it mean that little?"

Whatever hadn't been scared off by Daniel's gunshot was scared off by the echoing sound of the slap she landed on his face. "Little? To me? Are you serious? I didn't break vows Daniel, I didn't make a mockery of our marriage." Her voice cracked under the strain. "Stop making me feel guilty Daniel, I can't look round every corner to check if you're there, that fucking lovesick look on your face. Get over us and move on, I can't help that I found Sawyer so quickly, I never thought I would, but I'm not going to pass it up just because people think it's too soon."

She felt the first drops of rain fall down from the sky and turned to walk back to the house just as the ear splitting crack resonated above them and the torrential downpour fell on them. "Willie!" Daniel shouted over the roar of the rain.

She slowly turned, already soaked after only seconds in the downpour. "Tell me one thing, one thing and I swear I'll leave you alone." Daniel pleaded with her. He held her stare until she nodded slowly. "Where's this going? You and Sawyer? If you can tell me you honestly have a future with that man in there then I'll back off."

Wilhelmina looked at her ex husband, the rain plastered his hair to his head and the torrents snaked down his body saturating his clothes as it did hers. She looked up at the window of the room she and Sawyer shared and then back at Daniel. She opened her mouth to speak, to tell him that she could see a future with Sawyer; that she cared for him. Looking in the eyes that still held so much love for her, she couldn't do it.

"Leave me alone Daniel." Once again she turned from him and started to walk back to the large manor house. Even over the sound of the rain and the crack of thunder over head, she could still hear him shouting after her.

_Oh! And oh misery! Oh misery!  
>Tell me why does my heart make a fool of me<br>Oh misery! Oh misery_

Claire sat at the bar in the large reception room, prodding the olive in her martini with the cocktail stick. She hadn't taken a single sip of the drink and was fighting to keep it that way, but every so often she wanted the illusion of it. She saw a hand snake in front of her and lift the glass by the stem. She angled her head to see a thoroughly soaked Wilhelmina take the seat next to her and lift the martini to her lips, draining it in one gulp. "Another one of these and she'll have a club soda, you serve her anymore alcohol and I'll have you fired." The bartender nodded at her and nervously prepared the drinks.

"You're soaked." Claire stated the obvious.

"It's raining genius, that's what happens."

"Well go change for God's sake!" She was mortified that the usually immaculate Editor was in such a state in front of at least half the other editors from Meade.

"I need a drink more than dry clothes right now."

"What happened?" Claire sighed, not sure if she wanted to know.

Willie shook her head. "Nothing, shut up and drink your club soda."

"You know, your concern was touching when you were my daughter-in-law, now it's just damned annoying. Shouldn't you be dragging that Southerner of yours around, looking for Daniel, just so you can rub his face in it?" Claire snapped at her.

"What happened to staying neutral?" Willie droned as her drink was set in front of her. She took out the olives and discarded them on the surface of the bar and again necked the drink in front of her. She clicked her fingers and pointed to the glass, ordering yet another one from the bartender. "Double."

"I was neutral, until you asked your lover to stay with you, mere feet away from the man who still loves you; from my son who is hurting."

"_He's_ hurting?"

Claire spun in the stool, facing her. "Stop playing the victim Willie, we all know you were the one wronged, but don't act like you were completely innocent in the demise of your marriage and don't pretend you're not enjoying what you're doing now."

Wilhelmina straightened in her stool, her freshened drink in her hands. "Oh now it's all coming out, now I'm actually going to hear what you think. Come on then." She challenged her ex's mother, she had been waiting for this; her head had been on the chopping block since the day she threw her husband out and now the guillotine was about to descend.

"Fine!" Claire hissed. "You want to know what I really think? What I've been biting my tongue to keep from saying all this time?"

Willie arched her eyebrows and nodded once, curtly as she took another gulp from her drink. "By all means."

"At times you used my son as a door-mat, you made him feel obsolete in his own marriage. He made a mistake, yes it was an awful one, but it was still just a mistake, you divorced him far too quickly and now you're clinging to the first man that comes along, trying to convince yourself you can move on without Daniel. You two had it, you really did, but your stupid ego made you throw everything away instead of working at it and now every day I see you regress further and further into the woman you were, wanting nothing more than to humiliate my son and it terrifies me."

Wilhelmina sat silent throughout the tirade from the woman she now thought of as a friend. Claire stood and shot Willie one last look.

"You need to stop this Willie, stop it now, before I don't know you anymore and we hate each other again."

Claire walked away, Willie watched her move through the room until she was out of sight and only then did she notice the amused looks of the editors staring back at her, having heard every word of the heated conversation.

She spun back around and ordered yet another drink.

_Tell me why, why, why, why, why, why does this  
>heart make a fool of me<br>Seems its my destiny  
>For love to cause misery, oh<em>

Barely even thirty minutes later; she could feel the familiar buzz tingling through her body as she swirled the bottom of her sixth martini. The alcohol was clouding her brain, making her arguments that day with Sawyer, Daniel and the Claire all blend into one seemingly endless cycle.

She knew it was only a matter of time before Claire jumped to Daniel's defence, she was actually surprised it had taken so long; but then, she had underestimated how highly Claire now regarded their relationship.

The run in with Daniel was to be expected, she could not expect them to work together and stay together in such close quarters, so soon after their downfall and not have a few heated words spoken. How it could continue, though, she didn't know; she couldn't keep up the energy to continue fighting him, to continue hurting him at every turn. For the second time since he agreed to sign the papers ending the marriage, she found herself asking if it had indeed been too hasty. Daniel obviously thought so, and know Claire; even Marc had suggested she were being rash in the decision, and he despised her ex.

No matter now, it was done; the ink was dry, papers filed and she was no longer Mrs Meade.

And now she had Sawyer.

Sawyer; who no one could fail to smile at when he smiled at them. He had, quite possibly, the best heart of anyone she had ever met. Why was he with her? Could he see something good in her? Something worth fighting for? The fight with him that morning had affected her worse than it should. For some reason she didn't want him angry at her, she still needed someone she could go to who would always have a smile for her.

Too much had happened in the past 24 hours; in fact too much had happened in the past six weeks, for her to fully understand. She felt is if her head was two weeks behind her heart, struggling to keep up with the ever-changing emotions that the breakdown of her marriage had caused.

The sky outside was dark, although only mid-afternoon, foreshadowing the storm approaching. She was still wet and cold from being caught outside in the rain. She didn't know if it was this, the alcohol or just her reliving the events from the day that caused her to feel so numb; she just knew she needed the heat against her again.

She knew by now, he had calmed down and would be back in the room. She drank the small amount left at the bottom of the Martini glass and brought the little stick up to her mouth, pulling the olives off and popping them loudly between her teeth.

Willie again, ignored the stares from her fellow Editors as she got up and left the room. She walked to the room quickly, on auto-pilot and pushed the door open, stepping inside.

He was sat on the edge of the bed and stood as she came in, as perturbed by their fight as she was.

"I'm sorry about earlier." She told him, he just kept walking for her.

"Help me." She pleaded, in a whisper.

"Help you what?" He stopped and looked at her, she pinned him with her eyes.

"Forget."

_Guess it's all meant to be  
>For love to cause me misery<em>


	17. What If

**What If**

_Here I stand alone  
>With this weight upon my heart<br>And it will not go away  
>In my head I keep on looking back<br>Right back to the start  
>Wondering what it was that made you change<em>

Daniel looked at her, on the threshold to his door, her arms down her sides, her hair still damp from the rain of just a few hours before. She hadn't changed, she was still wearing the same fitting black trousers and loose blouse she had been wearing when they'd run into each other into the woods, and those too were damp and wrinkly.

Taking in her appearance, she was not the Wilhelmina she wanted the world to see. She was the same Wilhelmina who would walk barefoot round the house after a long day at work, the Wilhelmina who had once confessed she preferred to wear little make up, because she didn't want her face to be all wrinkled when she was older.

She was his Wilhelmina. And she was asking him for help.

He stepped aside, and she walked into the room. He closed the door and followed her as she stopped in the middle of the room, with her back on him, looking around. Her stare fell on something on her left.

"You have a piano," she stated.

Daniel looked into the same direction, at the piano which in fact stood a few feet away, black and lucid, the white keys shining brightly into the glow of the sunset that entered from the French window. The soft, orange light into the room threw long shades down on the floor, as the sun prepared to disappear for the night.

He didn't answer, he remained on the same spot, glued to the floor, watching her as she walked up to the piano and sat on the leather seat, looking down at the keys. She played one, with a single finger, then she played it again, twice. Daniel studied her actions, trying to understand why she was there.

"Come here," she said, looking over her shoulder.

Daniel took a deep breath and, despite his brain was telling him he should know the reason of her visit, before doing anything, his heart just told him to obey, and he did. He crossed the room and stood behind her. She looked up and scooted on the edge of the seat, motioning for him to sit down behind her, just like he always did whenever she would play the piano, through the past four years.

He did, and she leaned lightly back against his chest. He kept his hands on his thighs, clenching them into fists to fight the urge to reach for her and circle her waist, or at least graze her body in the slightest way. He looked over her shoulder down on the piano. He saw her fingers hovering over the keyboard, and then she began playing a tune he'd never heard before.

As the tune continued, he took a risk and leaned his chin on her left shoulder. She didn't flinch at the contact, and her hands kept running skillfully along the keys, and his ears took delight in the nearly perfect harmonies and the flawless fluidity of the tune.

After a couple minutes, she stopped, returning her hands on her laps. He lifted his chin and tilted his head to the side to watch her profile. "That was beautiful," he said. "I never heard you play that one before. What's it called?"

She turned her head to the side, to try and look him in the eyes. "_Broken vow_," she said, with a bitterness in her voice that made his stomach sink.

Daniel nodded and shifted in the seat, moving to stand up, but Wilhelmina grabbed his hand before he could, and kept him down behind her. He looked at her puzzled.

"You smell like alcohol," he said, honestly.

Wilhelmina chuckled. "After a couple Martinis, it starts smelling like Chanel n° 5," she said, shrugging.

"Wilhelmina, why are you here?" he asked, slipping his hand from her hold. "I'm tired of playing games." He was looking ahead, not trusting himself to look at her. "You need to stop punishing me."

"Touch me."

Daniel frowned and turned his head to the side again, looking at her with a confusion he'd only rarely felt. "What?" he whispered.

She swallowed and he noticed this time she was the one who didn't have the courage to look at him. "Can you…just, hold me?" she asked, hating herself for the pathetic mess she had become .

"You're drunk," he stated, but he couldn't deny the leap of his heart when she'd spoken those words. "You need to go," he added, despite not wanting her to.

"I'm not drunk. Tipsy, maybe. Enough to do a stupid thing, yes, but not enough to do something I don't mean," she said, her hand reaching for his again, and this time he held her hand too. "This…I mean it. It's stupid, and wrong. But I mean it. I need you to hold me, if even for just a minute, but I need you to hold me and I need to close my eyes and pretend none of this ever happened. Then, I'll open my eyes, and I'll stand up, and I'll walk away, out of this room and out of your life. But now, what I need, is for you to hold me for just a minute."

Daniel lowered his head, leaning his forehead against her shoulder, and let his hands do what they'd longed to do ever since she'd walked into the room. He circled her waist and held her against his chest, tight, holding onto her as if he was holding onto the last inch of life left in him. She looked up, blinking a couple times to bite back the tears threatening to roll down her eyes. She closed her eyes and placed her own hands above his, lost in the contact she had tried to forget.

There, with her eyes closed, she allowed her mind to wander back to the many Christmas Eves they'd spent sitting at the piano, in the exact position they were in now. She thought about those times when, back in time, she'd been smiling, not on the verge of tears; those times when she'd loved him more that she thought she could ever love anyone other than herself, and not blaming him for destroying her faith in humankind, a faith that had taken years to restore.

He too, hearing her unsteady breathing, was not in the present, drowning in a sea of past memories, in which they'd been holding to each other, trusting each other after overcoming all those obstacles life had put before them. His fingers stroked her stomach through the soft fabric of her blouse, remembering what it had felt like to be able to touch her without feeling unworthy of her presence, like now.

Just when he was getting reacquainted with the warmth of her body, he felt her hand move on his, pulling it away from her body. His head snapped up, and looking down at their joined hands he saw she was silently asking him to let her go. The minute, the single minute she had allowed herself, the minute she'd allowed them was over.

He slowly drew his hands back, placing them back on his thighs. She stood up and, without as much as a look at him, she took a few steps away from the piano. He maneuvered his body so that he was sitting on the short side of the stool, leaning his elbows on his knees and following her with his gaze. She stopped before the drinks cabinet, looking at the differently shaped bottles with a blank stare.

He ran a hand through his hair, as the sight of her in such a passive state killed him more than he would ever have imagined. He saw her closed her eyes and inhale deeply, holding to the cabinet's edge with both hands. He wanted to say something, but all that came to mind was a useless _I'm sorry_, something he knew she didn't want to hear anymore. Yet somehow, all he had inside seemed to be destined to stay inside his head, unheard by her.

Her hands left the unit with a swift movement, and she turned to look at him, breathing hard, as if trying to calm herself down. He recognized the light that flashed across her eyes, and he sat up straight as she walked towards him, deliberately slow. When she was standing close enough that he had to look up to look into her eyes, her hands reached for the hem of her shirt and lifted it up, above her head and off, out of sight.

His eyes left hers to travel down her body, all the words stuck in his throat. She took another step towards him, and he leaned his forehead against her stomach, closing his eyes again. His hands flew to her right leg, rubbing her thigh through the tight fabric of her pants. She sank one hands through his hair and kept his head in place against her stomach, while her other hand rested on his shoulder, grazing the cotton fabric of his shirt with her nails.

She stepped out of the ankle boots she0d been wearing all day, and lost a few inches in height. He pulled back and looked up, his hands travelling further up to rest on her hips, burning at the contact with her skin. She took his hands and shifted them from her hips to the front of her pants, on the fastening. He swallowed hard and his shaky fingers found the button, popping it open, and slid down the zipper.

She kept her stare fixed on his hands as he slid the pants down her legs ever so slowly, his eyes drinking in the sight of her body as it came into sight. The last time they'd had sex, after all, the last time they'd actually been together had not been about feelings as much as it had been about release and tempers flying high. Right now, as she stepped out of her trousers and stood semi-naked in front of him, he was seeing her for what she was.

His wife.

She sat down on his lap, facing him, her feet firmly planted on the ground. She brought her hands up to the collar of his shirt, unbuttoning the first button. She glanced into his eyes briefly, and smiled sadly.

Daniel brought his hands on hers and halted her movements; she refused to look up, keeping her stare fixed on their hands. Daniel leaned in and brought his lips level with her ear. "What are you doing?" he asked, out of breath.

Wilhelmina ignored him, and her hands moved down to pop another button open. Again, Daniel whispered into her ear. "What are you doing, Wilhelmina?" he asked, with more determination than he really felt.

Her fingers moved to the third button, but this time she locked her eyes with his. "I don't know," she muttered. He ran his hands down her sides and onto her thighs, massaging the skin he found there. She kept going, button after button, until the shirt was completely opened, and she pushed it off his shoulder. He shrugged it off, and when he felt her hands circling his neck he stared deeply into her eyes before leaning in, brushing his lips against hers, letting her have the control of the pace.

She pulled his bottom lip into her mouth, sucking and nibbling, and pressed her body further into his, in an attempt at telling him that no matter how wrong and inappropriate in their situation, it was what she wanted, and what she would eventually regret in the morning, but not tonight. Tonight, she wanted exactly that. She needed that. She needed him.

He pulled her closer, with his hands on the small of her back, and deepened the kiss. With a quick move, unexpected to Wilhelmina, he grabbed her thighs and stood up, holding her up while their mouths were still attached. He walked across the room, and he pulled back when he'd reached the bed. He let her back on the floor, and she looked over her shoulder, seeing the bed. When she looked back at him, he could see a hint of panic in her eyes.

He frowned. "What?" he murmured, returning his hands on her body, keeping her close, afraid she would walk away.

"Every time I close my eyes, Daniel…" she started. "Every time I close my eyes, all I can see is you, and her. And when I see you, I feel like someone's stabbing me in the back, repeatedly. I can't breathe, and I wish I could scream and shout, let it all out, but I can't. I don't wanna see that, anymore. I want to close my eyes and not see you, not see her. I need to exorcise all that."

Daniel felt a pang at his heart, and he reached for her hand and leaned his mouth into her ear, kissing below the earlobe, sucking on the soft skin he found there. She tilted her head back and bit her lip to hold back a moan, while her hands sneaked around his waist and pulled him to her again.

"You've always been the only one," he whispered, placing light kisses along the curve of her neck, descending on her shoulders. She shivered and took a step back, sitting down on the mattress; Daniel bent down, placing his hands on the mattress, and recaptured her lips, guiding her to lie down. As he stood above her, pinning her down with his weight, she lifted one leg above his hips, arching her back to feel more friction.

She tried to sit up, roll them over, but Daniel grabbed her firmly by her arms, and pushed her back down. She looked into his eyes and knew what he was doing; he wanted to b the ruler, he wanted to be dominant. And even if, under other circumstances, it would have unnerved her, and spurred her to fight even more, this time she just let him keep her pinned down under him. She gave in to him, and let him dictate the rules.

Sliding the straps of her bra down her arms, she quickly reached behind her back and unclasped it, tossing it aside with eagerness. He didn't keep her waiting longer, crashing his body onto hers, skin on skin, the light sweat that now covered their bodies mixing together. Wilhelmina then reached down, in between them, and fidgeted with Daniel's belt, unbuckling it hastily and pushing the garment down rudely, cupping his ass through his boxers and pressing him into her.

At that point, Daniel was in a blank zone, where nothing could affect him anymore, except for the woman that was touching him, squirming under his touch. He reached down her sides and hooked his fingers in the lacy material of her underwear, sliding it down and throwing it away. He did the same with his, removing it as quick as he could, and as soon as there was no longer anything in between them, he held her by her thighs and pulled her up to him, moaning at the feeling of touching her, really touching her.

He trailed down her body, kissing her stomach, feeling her nails dig into the skin of his shoulder. Her breathe quickened when he grabbed her legs behind her knees, pushing them apart. He placed one hand on her stomach, keeping her steady, and dipped his head in between them.

She gasped and clenched the sheets, at the feeling she'd missed. Biting her bottom lip, trying not to cry out, the thought of Sawyer crossed her mind. What if he was in their room, waiting for her. What would he think, if he knew she was just across the corridor, fighting not to moan under Daniel's ministrations?

She shouldn't do this, she shouldn't be doing this to him. And yet she was, and it felt right. Because Daniel was her husband, _ex_husband, and it felt right. It had felt surprisingly right ever since the first time they'd been together, and not once had felt wrong. Scratch that, that time in the bathroom had felt wrong. But this time? It was a whole different thing.

As the coolness of his tongue moved against her, flickering against her, she was mesmerized at the difference of the two acts. That time, it hadn't meant anything for her. No, not anything, just…it wasn't love. She didn't do it out of love, that time, even though she did love him deeply, even through the hurt and the rage. Today, instead, she was doing it because she was _in love_with the man who had broken her heart, and no matter how Sawyer might try, he would never be Daniel.

"Daniel," she called after him, and he increased the pressure against her clit, meanwhile reaching for her hand and squeezing it. She entwined her fingers with his and he knew by the tight grip she had on him that she was this close to the edge. Her breath shook, and she tilted her head back, as the sensation washed over her, and her climax took control of her body.

He remained on her, while her back arched and she squeezed her eyes shut, trying to control her moaning as she came. He knew she was concerned of Sawyer, in the room next to her, but the sadistic part of him wished she would scream out loud, so that the Southerner would hear her, and get the drill of who really was the only man in Wilhelmina Slater's life.

She was still breathing heavy, recovering, when he moved up her body. He brought his lips down on hers, and she responded to the kiss, languidly, her hands moving on his back, nails ranking lightly on his skin, causing him to shiver. She could feel herself on his lips, like she had countless times in those past four years. This time, she could feel like all the other times were weighing on them.

He pulled at her leg, positioning it over his hips, and he pressed himself against her; she groaned at the contact, still sensitive after her high, and she clutched at his shoulders, lifting her back off the bed slightly as he balanced himself on one elbow. He pulled his head back to look at her as he positioned himself against her core, and he could read the anticipation all over her features, the hunger, the passion that had always distinguished them, since the beginning, the passion that had never ceased to be there, even during their time of crisis. The passion that had started it all, but that hadn't prevented it from coming all tumbling down.

He looked down to avert her eyes, as the same feeling of before, that of being unworthy of being loved by this woman, came back full-fledged. But she reached under his chin and made him look at her, forced him because she didn't want it to be just meaningless, random sex with a faceless body. She wanted to see herself reflected in his blue eyes, to remember what it felt like to be the only one, for him, to erase the memories of _the other woman,_ to be the only thing he could see, if even for one night only.

He thrust into her, and they both gasped, they grasped at each other with more strength, nails sinking into skin, chests crashed together, breathe mixed in one single reaction. It was curious, if anything, how she'd missed it. How despite all they'd gone through, it was all still there, the excitement, the need, the urgency. If anything, it was heightened by the long weeks spent without each other.

She held onto him for dear life, and he began to move inside her, eyes rolling in his head at the feeling that never failed to overcome him: one of wholeness and perfection, like the world could end then and there, and it would be fair.

With each thrust, he could feel her whisper his name, so low he wouldn't hear if he wasn't standing so close to her. Time after time, she would whisper his name, and it made him feel alive again after weeks of apathy. His hand ran up and down her side, deciding that if that was the last time he would be able to hold her like that, he would remember every little detail.

How her skin felt under his fingers, how her hair smelt, how she alone was able to bring him to the thin line that lay between pain and pleasure, biting down on his skin and scratching his back with her nails.

He quickened his pace, driving into her with more force, and her whispers turned into moans, low moans she was trying to control, in order to keep whatever they were doing a secret, hidden to the others, because it was wrong, it was lascivious, it was a mistake, and still it was the best thing that could have happened to both of them in all the pain they'd experienced.

He buried his face in the nook of her neck, closing his eyes and focusing on keeping his movements rhythmic, but his body was starting to fail him, and his muscles were starting to tense. He knew he wouldn't last long, but he wanted her there with him.

"I love you," he whispered against her skin, reaching with his fingers to the spot where their bodies were joined, and rubbing her with his thumb. "Believe me," he added, his breath coming out in short bursts.

He didn't know whether it was what he'd done, physically, or what he'd said that caused her to go over the edge for a second time, but all he knew was that seconds later her breasts were pressed into his chest, as her back arched and she cried out his name. Her walls tightened against him, and with few more thrusts he followed her, hit by his own climax. He sucked down on the skin of her collarbone, groaning low in his throat, and his body was overcome by the spasms of his muscles.

He stilled against her, his nails digging into the skin of her thigh in the attempt to pull her as close to him as physically possible, and they held onto each other as they rode out the last of their highs. Slowly, he let go of her leg, which fell back on the mattress, like the rest of her body, and she lay there, eyes closed, breathing heavily. She ran a hand up her stomach and rested it there. He remained hovering her, balancing his weigh on his elbows, with his head dipped low between his shoulder, his fore head touching her chest.

He rolled over and tilted his head to look at her profile; his eyes travelled down her face, taking in the tousled hair, the flush on her cheek, the gleam in her eyes, her lips full and swollen, parted to let the air out in short breaths.

"I love you," he whispered, again.

She turned her head and looked at him. He noticed now, in the warm light of the sunset, the little dark, somewhat uneven, circle below her right ear, too dark for it to be his. It had to be older, a day or two maybe. Rolling on his side, he brought a hand up to it, touching it.

"I don't want him to touch you, Willie," he said, his eyes unable to move from that little mark. "You said every time you close your eyes, you see me with another woman. But every time I close mine, I see you with him, and it kills me. I don't want anyone to touch you," he concluded.

She should have said something poignant, but instead she just reached for the entangled sheets and pulled them over their shivering bodies. Lying back onto the mattress, she didn't look at him but she held his hand. "Why don't you try and sleep?" she said.

"Will you be here, when I wake up?"

Wilhelmina didn't answer.

_Well I tried  
>But I had to draw the line<br>And still this question keeps on spinning in my mind_

In the _Isabella_closet, Amanda was sitting down on a small couch, watching the model on the pedestal, trying to understand why the overlook didn't seem convincing. She tried to imagine it with a belt, with a necklace, with a different pair of shoes, with a different hairdo, but she still didn't get it. It wasn't inspired, it was…dull.

She huffed and stood up, going back to the stack of clothes piled up on the table. She skimmed through them casually, not really finding anything that could quite catch her attention. She was having a styling block.

She cursed under her breath, mad at the world.

Mad at Wilhelmina, who had placed a huge obstacle on her path by banning her from Mode because Mode had always been her home. Mad at Daniel, because she hadn't heard from him in ages, and she would expect him to give her a call, at least to know how she was doing, now that his wife, _ex_wife, had put an end to her social life. Mad at Marc, who despite living under the same roof as her, in the past 24 hours had been too busy taking care of Wilhelmina's dog, rather than actually listening to her. Mad at Betty, for…nothing, she had done nothing wrong, but she was mad she wasn't being more supportive.

Lastly, but most important, she was mad at Fey Sommers, the woman she still didn't have the courage to refer to as her mother. Knowing she had been alive, through all these years, and never once had she tried to make contact with her only daughter, angered her more than anything else. Not that she had felt the lack of a motherly figure, her adoptive mum had been more than kind to her. She just would have wanted her birth mother to care the slightest bit.

She was no longer angry about the adoption, she had learnt to live with that. As much as she might try and make an effort to understand why such a powerful woman would give up her daughter, the only thing she really couldn't understand was the choice of leaving her in the dark. Fey had faked her own death before she could figure out she was her real mother, and had she not found out on her own maybe Fey would have never bothered to come to the rescue, in this particular situation.

Amanda didn't know what her mother had done, in all these years, but she could imagine the carefree life she must have led, while she was on this side of the barricade, grieving over the loss of a mother she had never met, a mother she had idolized only to see her illusions come crashing down the night that mother had showed up on her doormat.

"Amanda?" came the feeble voice of the model standing on the pedestal, waiting. "This shoes are killing me."

Amanda spun around, with her hands on her hips. "Well I'm sorry for you, you chose to be a model and you're going to live with it," she said, superciliously. As soon as the words came out of her mouth, she passed a hand over her eyes and sighed. "No, I'm sorry. I'm sorry, Mezghan. I…take them off. I'll work on the outfit, and I'll tell you when it's ready."

The girl stepped out of the killer shoes, and sat down on the edge of the pedestal, massaging her calves. "Are you ok?" she asked, stealing a few glances at Amanda, who had gone back to rummaging through the heaps of clothes piled up on the table. "You seem nervous."

"I'm fine," Amanda whispered, throwing a yellow skirt over her shoulder. "I just need to find my damned inspiration."

The girl Mezghan stood up, and walked barefoot towards her, placing a hand on her shoulder. She pointed at something ahead of them, and Amanda looked up. She was pointing at the calendar.

"Just think it's the last week of work, and then we will all have a week off for Christmas!" the blonde beauty exclaimed, smiling excitedly.

Amanda frowned. Something, on the calendar, had caught her attention.

_What if I had never let you go  
>Would you be the man I used to know<br>If I'd stayed  
>If you'd tried<br>If we could only turn back time  
>But I guess we'll never know<em>

When the sun had completed its journey, and was safely behind the hills, leaving room for the moon to shine up into the deep blue sky, Claire walked outside on the patio, sitting at the small table and inhaling deeply the clean, chilly mountain atmosphere. She loved not to smell smog, or dirt, like it happened in New York.

A noise coming from the nearby group of trees distracted her, and she craned her neck to look at the shadow coming out of the trees. She recognized him immediately, when his face came under the light of the small garden wall lamp.

"Sawyer," she greeted him, and the man looked up and seemed caught off guard by the woman's presence. "What were you doing, out there so late?"

Sawyer shrugged and stopped near the table, looking down on the older woman. "Taking a walk. Clearing my mind on some things."

"And do those things involve a person I know?" she asked, smiling knowingly.

"Maybe. Maybe more than one."

Claire nodded, understanding the man's trouble, knowing what it felt like to doubt the person you care about. "Why don't you sit down?" she said, motioning to the chair next to hers. "I might be Daniel's mother, but I swear I don't hold any interest for Wilhelmina."

Sawyer chuckled and sighed, puling the chair to him and falling back down on it, shifting his stare on the sky, where the first stars of the night were starting to make their appearance against the blue background, shiny and unreachable. "It may seem an old and overused phrase, but I love to look up to the sky away from the streetlights. It's a whole different show than what we're used to, back in the city." He paused and smiled at Claire. "It used to be just like this, in Texas. We didn't live in downtown, we lived far from the city. It was beautiful, every night."

Claire returned the smile and looked up for a brief moment before looking back at the man who was sitting next to her. "What's wrong?" she asked.

"I don't know her," Sawyer answered truthfully. "We're together, but the truth is we've gone so fast, and I don't know her. She might know me, but that's because when it comes to me what you see is what you get. She's so…complex, multi-faceted. I don't know half as much as I'd like to."

"Trust me, you can never say you really know someone," Claire told him. "The best part, however…is discovering each other. I agree Wilhelmina is quite a challenge. But the right person will gladly take on that challenge, don't you think."

Sawyer stared into her eyes, wondering if she was giving him an advice, or if she was really talking about her son, about how Daniel was right for her and he was not. He decided to smile, and didn't answer. Instead, they both looked up to the sky.

_Many roads to take  
>Some to joy<br>Some to heart-ache  
>Anyone can lose their way<br>And if I said that we could turn it back  
>Right back to the start<br>Would you take the chance and make the change_

"It's official!" Marc's voice resounded through the walls of her temporary office, and she looked up.

"What?" Betty asked, lifting an eyebrow and going back to the stack of paperwork Marc had filled her with.

"I'm 75% better than you. Which is not a huge change, since I was already 70% better than you. The remaining 25% being your boss's incredible low stakes in the Meade company as of today, and the other 5% due to your wonderful, kick-ass nephew."

"Marc, you never scored top marks in your math class, did you?" Betty asked, confused at what the man had just told her. "What are you trying to say? This time words, not numbers."

Marc took a huge step in and smirked. "What I'm trying to say is that I just got a call, because Wilhelmina was not answering on her cell phone. As of today, Suarez, Willie is officially 75% owner of this place, and the whole building actually."

Betty snorted. "Congratulations, I guess."

"Why the long face, Betty Burrito?" he asked, with a smirk. "You worried Daniel's ass will be stuck under a stinky bridge before the end of December? Oh well, I see where you're coming from, that's totally possible, and righteously plausible, seen as Wilhelmina is going to get everything."

Betty lowered her head, trying to pass on the message that she was busy and didn't have time to raise to the bait, but Marc didn't seem to get it. In fact, he walked further into the office and sat down, looking amused. "I wonder how long it'll take her to have Daniel hand the company to her completely. I mean, he will probably run away in shame sooner or later, as soon as he realizes he's nothing but a person to make fun of, nowadays?"

"Marc, stop it," Betty said warningly, not lifting her eyes.

"I guess he'll manage for another couple of weeks, but it won't be long before he gives up completely," Marc continued, dreamily. "He's never been famous for his backbone."

The light, in the office flickered, and they both looked up. "Marc, I told to get it fixed?" Betty asked, pointing at the halogen lamp above them. "Wilhelmina told you she wanted it fixed by the time she came back."

"Yes, yes, yes," Marc said, dismissing her. He stood up and walked away. "You're not funny to ridicule people with, Suarez."

"That's because that's not something I like to do," Betty called out after him, but he had already turned right and was out of sight. Betty sighed and, eyeing the door, she picked up the receiver of the phone and dialed Daniel's number.

It rang a few times, before going straight to voicemail. Betty looked at the receiver and shook her head at the irresponsibility of both Editors in leaving their phones and not answering their calls, when they were well aware that they had left the magazine in the hands of a moody Senior Editor and a person from another magazine.

_Do you think how it would have been sometimes  
>Do you pray that I'd never left your side<em>

He opened his eyes, a couple of hours later, and wasn't surprised when she wasn't in bed. He was, however surprised, when the bathroom door opened up and she emerged, her hair finally dry and combed again, far from her usual perfection, but at least she wouldn't risk a pneumonia. She had a robe on, similar to the white robe he had used just that morning. He smiled and sat up against the headboard, watching her as she moved about the room.

She shot him a quick glance, before crouching down to pick up the clothes discarded earlier in the afternoon. The room was dark, exception made for the light coming from the bathroom and the small lamp on the nightstand.

"Come back here," he said, patting the spot next to him.

Wilhelmina stood up, looked briefly at the same spot, but lowered her gaze again and turned her back on him, walking back into the bathroom and closing the door behind her. He frowned, and tossed the sheets aside, crawling to the foot of the bed to retrieve his boxers and put them on. He stood up, massaging the muscles oh his neck, and padded across the room and to the bathroom door. He was about to open it, but someone opened it before him, and he nearly bumped into a fully dressed Wilhelmina.

He looked her up and down. "Are you going somewhere?"

Wilhelmina brushed past him, and walked to the little vanity that hadn't been used ever since he'd been in the room. She checked herself in the mirror, trying to locate any mark left by their actions of just a few hours before, and sighed satisfied when she couldn't find any.

"Are you going to give me the silent treatment, after what happened?" he asked, watching her, glued to the spot.

Wilhelmina finally turned to look at him and shrugged. "I'm sorry."

"You're sorry," he repeated. "Unbelievable. You're really going to walk out that door and pretend nothing happened?"

"Daniel, it's not like it didn't happen before," she exclaimed, standing up. "That was…we've been together for four years, it happens. It just…it happens all the time, between exes."

"Don't try and put that on the same level as any other fling, Wilhelmina," he said, pointing to the bed where he'd loved her, and where he knew she'd loved him back. "I'm not gonna let you do that."

She walked away from the dressing table and her eyes scanned the floor, looking for any forgotten garment. When she seemed satisfied, she looked back at Daniel who was still looking at her, anger having replaced the hurt and the sadness. She took a few steps forward and came to stand before him.

"I said I'm sorry," she repeated.

He snorted, incredulously noticing how the roles had changed, how she was the one apologizing, and he was the one who didn't want to hear it. He grabbed her wrist and looked her dead in the eyes. "You're still in love with me," he said.

"I'm not in love with you," she said, looking defiantly into his eyes. "I love you, I care for you, but I wasn't in love with you ever since the moment you cheated on me."

"What was that, then?" he hissed into her face, letting go of her wrist to point at the bed once more. "What did we do? Why? Why did you come onto me? Why did you seek me? You wanted to torture me? You wanted to have fun and see me crawling once again?"

Wilhelmina took a step back. "That was closure."

"Well, that damn well didn't seem like closure to me," he exclaimed.

"Daniel, keep your voice low," she whispered, looking away.

"WHY?" he yelled louder, to spite her. "Because you don't want _him_to hear it?"

Wilhelmina narrowed her eyes and, tired of his charade, turned her back on him and stormed off to the door. Before she could open it, his voice stopped her once again.

"You say I'm a bad person, because I cheated on you," he stated. "But look at you. You did the same."

"I didn't cheat on you," she hissed, spinning around. "We were divorced by the time I fucked another person, I wasn't in our bed when I fucked another person, I didn't have my wedding ring on when I fucked another person."

"I wasn't talking about me," he said, his voice so calm it unnerved. "I'm talking about him. You didn't cheat on me, you cheated on him."

She closed her mouth, every retort she could think of seemed to slip out of her mind as the reality of the situation and the truth in Daniel's words hit her full force.

"You say I'm a bad person," he repeated. "Truth is, you're just like me."

With a last glare, she turned and opened the door, walking out and slamming it closed behind her. She stood there, in between the room she shared with a perfectly kind man who worshipped her, and the room that she had shared with the man who knew her better than anyone else.

"Wilhelmina."

She spun around, watching as Sawyer, at the end of the corridor, stepped out of the elevator and looked at her for a moment before walking towards her with his head bowed down. How much had he seen? Had he seen her coming out of Daniel's room? Had he heard them fighting? Had he heard anything else?

When he was within reach he lifted his head and looked at her, shaking his head. "I'm sorry for the way I acted earlier."

She let out a breath of relief. Clearly, he hadn't heard anything. The relief, however, was not destined to last long, as looking into his eyes and seeing the defeat that their fight and put in them made her heart ache with guilt.

"I don't want to change you," he whispered. "I don't know you yet, but I want to. I want to know every little thing about you, and even those small things I'm not going to like…I'm going to accept them, because they're all part of you, and I'm ready to take you as you are, as a whole."

She opened her mouth to say something, but he shook his head and placed his hands on her arms, the same arms that had been grabbed by Daniel just that afternoon.

"I wanna take on the challenge that you are, Wilhelmina Slater," he said, smiling widely. "I want to be the right one to face that challenge, and to make it where the others have failed. I want to be that man, and I'll do anything to prove it to you."

Then and there, all the weight of the past two days seemed to press her down on the floor, and she felt her stomach twist inside her body. With a hand, she covered her mouth, and squeezed her eyes shut as a sob shook her body. She felt the first tears fall down her eyes, and immediately after the warmth of Sawyer's arms enveloped her in a tight, strong hug.

Her boy continued to shake, and she was unable to control the sobs. She wished she could care about this man the same way she cared about the man behind the other door. She wished he could be that man to take on the challenge and help her through it. She wished she could promise him she would let him be that man.

Her hands sneaked around his neck and she clang onto him, burying her head against his chest.

"Let's go back to New York, Sawyer," she said, when she managed to quiet her own sobs. "Let's go back, tomorrow."

Sawyer rubbed her back, not really understanding the breakdown of the woman in its fullness, but knowing the whole situation was taking its toll on her. He kissed the top of her head and nodded. "Let's go back to New York."

_What if I had never let you go  
>Would you be the man I used to know<br>If I'd stayed  
>If you'd tried<br>If we could only turn back time  
>But I guess we'll never know<em>

The morning after, when Daniel woke up, Talmadge Hall was very quiet. He could hear the birds tweeting outside his window, so he walked up to the window. Taking in the beauty of the forest surrounding them, he noticed movements with the corner of his eyes, and he looked down on the street. He saw Wilhelmina's car parked right outside the oak entrance door, and Sawyer was loading a few suitcases in the trunk. He saw the man circled the car and jump in, at the driver's seat.

In that moment, he saw Wilhelmina coming down the stairs, and reaching the car, dressed in a simple, long, black coat. She opened the car and, before jumping in, she lifted her eyes to his window. Their eyes met, and she parted her lips, surprised. She hadn't expected to see him there, at the window.

She looked around, and then lifted her hand, in a form of farewell. He mimicked her actions, raising one hand and nodding. He read the sadness in her eyes, and maybe remorse. He couldn't say whether it was remorse for what she knew she was doing to Sawyer, or for what she knew she wanted for the two of them.

He turned around and looked at the suitcase on his bed, packed and ready.

Whatever it was, he was going back to New York too, to find out.

_If only we could turn the hands of time  
>If I could take you back would you still be mine<em>

Marc snapped the phone closed and looked at Hudson. "Baby boy, Mommy's coming home!" he exclaimed, clapping his hands. The puppy yapped, as if he'd actually understood what the man was telling him. Amanda watched the scene from her seat, at the table, while she was busy putting outfits together. Well, officially, as her mind was no something completely different.

"I thought the retreat would be longer," she said, looking up.

Marc shrugged. "Yeah, the retreat is still on, she and Sawyer are coming back."

"Why?" Amanda asked, frowning.

"She wouldn't tell me," Marc said, moving around the apartment to collect the chewing toys Hudson had scattered around the room, and throwing them in the Louis Vuitton overnight bag Sawyer had packed for the puppy two days before, when he'd dropped him at Mode.

"What about Daniel?" she insisted, biting the inside of her cheek. "Is he staying?"

"How am I supposed to know, it's not like he's riding back with her," Marc said, throwing the last toy and straightening himself up, glancing around a last time. "Did I get everything? Am I forgetting something? Hudson, are you ready to go back home?"

The dog jumped on the couch and started to run and try to catch his tail; when he managed, he tripped on his own paws and fell back on the cushions, looking confused by the fall. Marc and Amanda chuckled at the funny muzzle, and Marc picked him up.

"Well, Mandy, I'm bringing this little one back at Willie's, and I'll stop there for a little, just in case she needs anything," he said. He stopped, the dog squirming in his grasp, and allowed himself to look at her and notice that she was miles away. "Mandy, are you ok?" he asked, stepping closer.

Amanda opened her mouth to say something, her eyes darted to the sight, then plastered a smile on her face. "Sure," she exclaimed. "Just, work things on my mind."

Marc tilted his head. "Are you sure?" he insisted. "You haven't been this hard-working since you thought you were going to style Queen Elizabeth, and it was Elizabeth Hasselback."

Amanda nodded. "Don't worry, I need to work on Mezghan's outfit for the back cover. Just, go. I'm okay, really."

She didn't sound at all that convincing, but arc couldn't pull the words out of her, so he pulled the strap of the overnight bag and shifted Hudson on his other arm. "I'll be back tonight," he said, with a smile. Amanda smiled back, and followed him with her eyes as he walked to the door and stepped out.

Then, she dragged her eyes to the left, eyeing the calendar on the wall. She made up her mind, then and there.

_'Cos I tried  
>But I had to draw the line<br>And still this question keep on spinning in my mind_

Later, that afternoon, Wilhelmina was finally alone in her house. Sawyer had helped her unpack, and _unwind_, before he had to go to his own place and sort out the stuff he'd left when he'd decided to stay with her in Talmadge Hall. Marc had dropped by, bringing Hudson back home, and she had been surprisingly happy to have the little hurricane back in her arms. The man had tried to make her spill the reason why they'd come back to New York so early, but she hadn't relented.

Now, she stood in the semidarkness of her kitchen, the only light coming from the hood above the stove. There, alone, for the past two hours, she'd been thinking about her life. She'd been thinking about what she wanted to do, and what was expected of her to do. She thought, for the first time, about those words Fey and Claire had said to her, that night at Mode; about how she was doing what people wanted her to do, not what her heart told her to do.

So, that evening, she had stopped and listened to her heart, for the first time in a long time. She had listened to what her heart had to say, the requests, the needs she was denying him. She had asked her heart if she was right, in doing what she was doing, and the answer she got was not what she would expect, after all she'd been through.

She'd expected her heart to be in pain, to hate the man who had helped shatter her into pieces. Most of all, she had expected her heart to tell her that she needed to move on, find someone who would cherish her, find someone who wouldn't break it once more.

Instead, that evening, her heart had told her the opposite. It had told her that she was wrong, that she had done the biggest mistake of her life, that she had let her pride suffocate what she was really feeling inside, and that was Daniel. All she wanted, all she had always wanted, was to have her husband back, back where he righteously belonged, with her. And that was exactly the reason why what had happened had shaken her so much. The events of the day before were nothing but the attempt of her heart at telling her that she needed to stop pretending, it had been the only way her heart had found to speak to her mind, too clouded by the rejection and the shame.

She couldn't tell whether they could ever fix something so damaged, but she knew they needed to talk; this time, they needed to really talk, let their heart speak, and not their brains. She needed to tell him that he was right, she was still in love with him, and even more importantly, she all she desperately wanted was for him to come back into her life.

That's why she had called him, that afternoon. That's why she'd told him to come over, so that they could talk.

And when she heard the knock on the door, her heart stopped.

_What if I had never let you go  
>Would you be the man I used to know<br>What if I had never walked away  
>'Cos I still love you more than I can say<br>If I'd stayed  
>If you'd tried<br>If we could only turn back time_

Daniel awaited nervously at the door, his hands linked behind his back. He was nervous, more nervous than he'd ever been in his whole life, but at the same time he felt positive. Something in her voice had told him what he wanted to know. There was no trace of the ice she'd treated him with during the past weeks, no sign of angst. Just her, her voice, her feelings laid on the table.

After a couple of minutes, he lifted his head to knock one more time, but the door opened before he could. He smiled widely, seeing her, but his face fell when he took in the fire in her eyes, the clenched jaw, the rigidity in her movements.

Something was wrong. He could tell, just by looking at her, this was not the same person that had called him asking him to stop by _their_apartment. She stepped aside and held the door opened for him, closing it behind him as soon as he'd stepped in. She walked ahead of him, and he followed her, unable to speak, scared at what could have changed the woman's mind.

When they stepped into the dining room, however, he knew. It was almost as if the temperature had dropped drastically, when he looked at the table and saw the person sitting at the head of it, looking intimidated, but at the same time having some sort of self-control.

Amanda.

"What are you doing here?" he asked.

He stopped on his tracks, while Wilhelmina continued until she was standing behind the blonde girl she held so much despise for. She looked down on her and bowed her head to the side, pointing to Daniel.

"Go ahead," Wilhelmina said. "Tell him."

Amanda looked up, to stare into Wilhelmina's eyes, and then shifted her gaze upon Daniel, who was feeling the last traces of hope slide off him.

Amanda fidgeted with her hands, then swallowed and seemed to gain a little strength, because she stood up.

"Tell me what?" Daniel insisted, looking from Amanda back to Wilhelmina, and back to Amanda again. "Tell me what!" he insisted raising his voice.

"I'm pregnant."

Daniel's eyes became completely empty, and the first thing he could do was look back at Wilhelmina. She, who had tried to avoid meeting his stare, locked eyes with him, and shook her head imperceptibly.

"Congratulations," she whispered, but he knew that, just like she'd told him the day before, she had just felt the ultimate stab.

_But I guess we'll never know  
>We'll never know<em>


	18. Broken

**Broken**

That was it, whatever hope there was to rekindle his relationship with his wife was dashed with those two words from the blonde sat at the table. Daniel stared at Amanda, willing his mouth to work, begging her with his eyes to tell him she was wrong. She couldn't be pregnant, that one stupid night had already had enough lasting consequences without the added complication of a new life.

He didn't want to be a father. Did he? He had gotten used to the fact he would never be one when he asked Wilhelmina to share his life with him, letting go of the notion of parenthood had not been as hard as he had anticipated; not when he knew he had the right person by his side. And that right person had just left him alone in the room with the woman carrying his baby.

Amanda studied Daniel's eyes intently, waiting for any kind of reaction; she couldn't see any emotion in his eyes, he just held her gaze in his own blank stare but she knew he wasn't looking at her. The longer she looked at him, the harder his stare became, the tighter his jaw clenched. "Daniel...say something." She whispered, pleading him.

"Are you sure it's mine?" His eyes were still looking through her, not focussing.

Amanda looked down, at her hands twisting under the table and gave a hollow laugh. "How did I know that would be the first thing you would ask?"

"Answer me Amanda."

She nodded slowly and watched his body sag at the admission. "Do you think I would be here if I wasn't, there's been no one since you Daniel and no one for weeks before."

Daniel moved slowly, the weight of the situation pushing him down. He dragged a chair out with his fingertips, the strength it took for that simple movement was titanic. Like a lifeless rag doll, he collapsed into the chair. He looked up but couldn't bring himself to look in Amanda's eyes, couldn't let her see that on top of the shock he felt there was also anger; anger that she had just placed an insurmountable obstacle between him and his wife, resentment that she had ruined his final chance to make it right with her. He knew it was irrational, that it was as much his fault as hers, if not more, but that didn't matter in that moment. All that mattered was that he knew his ex-wife would forgive many things, but not this, never this.

Out in the hallway, Wilhelmina's front door opened silently, Marc crept inside, not wanting to disturb Wilhelmina who had been exhausted when he had seen her earlier. He had made it halfway home when he realised he still had all the dog's stuff in his bag and made the u-turn to return it. Tiptoeing quietly down the hall he passed by the opening to the kitchen and stopped when he saw the back of Daniel's head and shoulders in a chair at the table. His stomach clenched as he worried that he had followed Willie back from the retreat to cause her even more grief. Slipping back into his guise of Wilhelmina's protector, he moved to step into the kitchen and stopped cold when he saw the woman facing Daniel across the table was not Wilhelmina, but Amanda.

He stood in the shadow of the door, unseen by both, mind in turmoil as to why they could possibly be there, here of all places. He was frozen to the spot, knowing he had walked in on something significant, something bad and something that would undoubtedly set Willie back, erasing how far she had come in the past six or seven weeks. He heard Daniel's voice, ringing loudly in the stillness of the room, although he was whispering

"I take it you're keeping it?"

Marc felt something fall in the pit of his stomach with those words, he knew they could only mean one thing. Dismissing the pair in the kitchen, he turned brusquely and walked down the hallway, speeding up as he came towards the bedrooms. He pushed open the door to Wilhelmina's room found her standing in the middle of the room, completely still as she stared into the open closet in the back of the room.

"Willie." He whispered and rushed forward, placing the sleeping dog on the bed on the way past. He took hold of her upper arms and tried to look in her eyes, but hers refused to focus on him, she remained staring blankly into the closet.

Marc stumbled over his words, nothing he could say could possibly mend her. "I...I don't know what to say...are you-"

"One of his suits is still in there...do you think he wants it? I could send it to storage with the rest of his stuff, or give it to Claire I suppose." She babbled at speed. "Maybe he could just take it with him, go ask him if he wants it Marc."

"Willie..." He repeated, trying to break her trance, desperate for her to let him in.

"Or does half his stuff include clothes? Do I own it now? How does it work?" She screwed her face up, trying to puzzle through the intricate workings of her divorce.

"Look at me." Marc pulled her round to force her face at his and her eyes seemed to snap back into the room, back to reality. She could ramble on about all the nonsensical things she wanted too, trying to slide into denial, but it couldn't change the fact that the love of her life was, at this moment, sitting in a room in her house talking about his bastard child with the other woman.

"I have to get out of here." She breathed, eyes darting around the room wildly and Marc saw them fill up as he watched her. She quickly shrugged off his touch and grabbed her keys and Blackberry from the dresser.

"Willie, talk to me please." Marc tried to reason with her, to stop her spiralling out of control when he had worked so hard to hold her together; his own life had suffered throughout the demise of her marriage, friendships had been strained and now almost certainly broken.

Wilhelmina shot another look to the closet in the recesses of the room. "I have to get out of here." She repeated, she had no words of eloquence, no coherent thoughts other than removing herself as far away from the situation as humanly possible. Without so much as another look at Marc, she swept from the room.

Marc stood in the same position in which he had found Willie, looking futilely around the room, searching for something that wasn't there. Since the beginning of this sorry mess, he had felt his loyalties torn, not now. If Amanda answered yes to the question he had heard Daniel ask her then he knew exactly where he stood. As unfair as it was to the innocent life being brought into the middle of this war, he couldn't stand by and watch Amanda raise a child with the man Willie loved and watch Wilhelmina fall apart at the sidelines.

Unsure of what to do with himself, of where to turn and what to say, he simply turned around and looked at the small blonde mass curled tightly in the middle of Wilhelmina's bed. He walked to the far side of the bed and, in a move he would never have considered in all his years, he lay down on top of the covers, curling around the sleeping presence in the middle. He smiled sadly at the dog, whom he knew would awaken and be the hyperactive bundle he always was; how he wished his life was as simple as that, that he could be unfazed by everything around him.

With some effort, he smiled wider as the dog let out a particularly loud snore, his gaze travelled up to the closet which had held Wilhelmina's fascination when he found her and yet again he felt a great pang of sadness for his friend.

There, hanging on the front of the closet, was Daniel's wedding suit.

_You can take away all my love,_

_what do I need you for?  
>You can take away all these words,<em>

_there's no meaning anymore_

December was in full swing on the streets of New York, the snow falling sideways accompanied by a wind sharp enough to cut through the skin. The normally relatively quiet street outside her building was bustling with last minute shoppers coming from every direction as the last of the evening light faded.

Why had she never noticed how full of children this city was? Probably because she never had any reason to. Now though, wherever she looked there seemed to be kids running about in the snow, tired little people holding the hands of their parents as they tried to drag them home to do yet more Christmas preparations; couples cooing over tightly wrapped babies, sleeping snugly as they were pushed along the sidewalk, their parents in eager anticipation of the first Christmas with their child.

This time next year, one of those proud fathers would be Daniel. Her husband would be one of those men peering into the strollers they pushed and smiling at the expressions his child pulled when it looked in his eyes. Willie's eyes were drawn to the woman at the side of the man she was watching, clutching his arm. Would the woman on Daniel's arm be Amanda? If she knew her husband, and she did, then yes. He was many a thing, but above all he was a good man; he would do the right thing.

As she continued to stare at the families she passed, she saw them all staring back at her; with a sudden shiver she realised that it was probably because it was the eighteenth of December in New York and she had ran from her apartment without so much as a jacket. Everyone around her was wrapped tightly against the elements, she was only a black dress, stopping at her knees and with only little spaghetti straps that would do nothing to protect her shoulders from the cold, a pair of black stilettos the only other item of her attire. They were not designed for rushing through the streets of New York in her state, while snow lay on the ground. She teetered on them, always maintaining balance; gripping tightly to the cold steel of the keys in her hand; so hard she felt it digging into her flesh.

She stood to the side, everyone looking at her like she was crazy and started scrolling through the contacts in her Blackberry, thankful that Marc had updated it. She had left the house without picking up her purse and there was no way she was going back up there. The address she was looking for flashed on the screen and she saw it was only a couple of blocks, she could make it in the snow. She could barely feel the chill in the air anyway. She didn't feel cold, she didn't feel pain.

She felt empty.

Her years as a model kept her upright on her heels as she strode quickly along the streets, people slipping and sliding on each side of her, watching her as she passed. She saw her breath coming out in short sharp bursts, the clouds from her mouth floating away in the night sky. She rounded a corner and looked at her Blackberry, lifting her head up, she checked the building numbers.

Willie hurried up the stairs in front of the building, her hand on the banister, pushing off the inch of snow which had already fallen, numbing her hand further. A couple came out of the building just as she reached the doorway and she slipped in behind them.

She didn't care about the looks she got from the people she passed in the lobby of the building, she only wanted to get to her destination, she must have looked insane, erratically breathing and head twisting sharply, looking for the elevator. When she found it she stabbed the button repeatedly. It arrived and she stepped in as soon as the doors began opening, pushing the button for the floor she wanted before they even had time to open fully and close again.

When it arrived at the floor she turned sideways and slipped out as soon when they were opened only slightly, just enough to accommodate her slender frame. Typically, the apartment she wanted was right at the end of the corridor she stepped into. The strength in her legs finally started to give way as her body deflated in relief at being where it needed to be. With every step she felt the bravado she had put on in the street slip away and by the time she reached the door she could feel herself descending back into the mess she had been six weeks ago.

She banged the door with the flat of her hand, harder than needed and a voice answered from inside. "Yeah! S'open."

Willie swung the door open wide and found herself stepping into a large studio loft and closed the door again without turning around. Sawyer was pacing his floor, browsing through a stack of vinyl in his arms as the sounds of soft rock floated out from an old style record player. His pacing stopped when he saw her standing on the threshold, the cold having caught up with her, she shivered. He had foreseen this, knew she would come calling on him. After the retreat, he knew something had happened to change her mood so suddenly, and he sadly resigned himself to the fact that before long she would be telling him his services were no longer required; professionally and personally. He had expected all that.

Not this.

"Tell me you want me." Her voice was soft, childlike, pleading for validation.

There was no question about it, as he saw her stood there, her eyes begging him to want her like she needed him to. He dropped the items in his hand on the chair beside him and gave her the answer she was looking for. "I want you."

She stepped out of her black heels and walked slowly across the sparsely furnished room, pulling the thin straps of her dress down her shoulders as she moved, her eyes locked with his the entire time. With each step she took, she let it fall further until she stepped out of it completely and was at arm's length from him, in only her underwear. Her lips parted slightly as she whispered at him.

"Show me."

He kept his eyes on hers, understanding her need for the contact and angled his arms over his shoulder, gripping the fabric of his t-shirt at the back, pulling it up and forward over his head and let it fall between them. No more words needed, he closed the distance between them and pressed himself to her cold body, giving her his heat. Everywhere his body touched hers seemed to warm instantly at the contact. Sawyer's eyes darkened hungrily as he dipped his head and captured her lips gently, his mouth moved slowly as he tried to show her just _how much_ he wanted her. One hand came up to cradle the back of her head, holding her tight as he kissed her with all he felt for her.

The hand lowered to her shoulders and he bent slightly, the other hand going to the back of her legs and he lifted her. Taking slow, measured footsteps, he moved through the open planned living area, down a small hall and into his bedroom, all the way letting his lips trace small kisses on her jaw line. Stooping down, he laid her against the pillows of the bed and followed her down, covering her body with his.

Sawyer propped himself up on his hands and lowered his head to her neck, paying attention to the sensitive spot beneath her ear. Normally, she would reach for him, needing the control of the situation, but she brought her hands to lie next to her head on the pillow, giving him the power, needing to feel his want for her, through his touch on her slowly warming skin.

Willie closed her eyes and let her head fall back on the pillow, pushing all thoughts from her mind other than the man touching her. In her mind, the feel of his rough callused fingers became smooth, the lips kissing down her stomach belonged to another man, try as she might she couldn't see Sawyer, all she could feel was her husband moving against her. When she closed her eyes, she was right back at the retreat.

She twisted her body underneath the mouth leaving hot kisses along her stomach and shot a hand out onto his shoulder, stopping him. Sawyer looked at her, from his position on her torso and she ran a hand down the side of his face. She shook her head, "Can you just...can we just lie here?"

He nodded against her and crawled back up her body, she turned on her side, folding a pillow under her head, and Sawyer fitted himself in behind her, cradling her with his body. He tugged at the blankets under her body until they released and he covered them both. Sawyers arm went over her side and he held her close to him, placing a kiss to the back of her neck. "Sleep." He told her.

She doubted she'd sleep again, but she would settle for his arms around her. Even in the short time she had come to know him, she felt safe when he enveloped her in his muscles. Sawyer watched her, ignored his own painful need which she had ignited and just held her. Willing her to let go of whatever pain she was clinging to and let him make it better. He didn't know what had brought her to the state she was in and he wouldn't push her, she would tell him when she was ready. All he knew was that the woman in his arms needed someone tonight and she had chosen him. He put his head down behind hers, nestling her head under his chin. "Just sleep."

She already was.

_You can take away everything_

_leave me lying on the floor,  
>all those sorrys, we can't go back to the start.<br>You can't fix me, I'm torn apart._

The atmosphere in the kitchen had not dissipated any and Amanda felt as if the air was choking her. Daniel had said nothing since she had told him that yes, she was keeping their child; he had merely nodded and resumed staring around the room. The few times his eyes did wander to her he never once looked her in the eye, instead his gaze lingered on her stomach; where his unborn child grew.

She wanted him to say it was all going to be okay; she needed him to say it. She wanted him to tell her that they could do this, and they could do it together. She wanted _him_. Pure and simple. She knew that if he just stepped away from the disaster that what his marriage and looked at what she could give him; a second chance, a child, a relationship where he didn't always feel compromised, then he would see this as a good thing, not the tragedy he clearly thought it was.

"Daniel..."

"No, not now Amanda. I can't deal with this...I need time." He was still slumped in the chair, his jaw still clenched and eyes on the floor. "Please, just...let me get my head round it." He stood up from the table and forced himself to look in her eyes. "I'll call you."

Amanda's eyes widened and her mouth flapped wordlessly. "Daniel!" She called after him.

He turned in the doorway. "I said I'll call you." He told her evenly and disappeared down the hallway. Amanda stood from the table, the news not having been taken the way she had thought it would. If anything his reaction had been reminiscent of how Fey said Bradford had reacted when she had told him the same news.

Had she been kidding herself that she thought he might be glad, that this baby could be a second chance for them both? He was divorced now, he and Willie were over. _Why can't he just open his god damn eyes and see that I'm so much better for him? Why can't he see I'm the right choice?_

Picking up her purse from the table and slinging her coat over her hands, she hurried from the apartment, feeling the air clear the moment the door closed behind her. She leaned back against it, her hand subconsciously on her stomach.

She looked down at the flatness of her stomach and imagined it bloated and swollen. She smiled and stroked what would soon become her bump and then looked back at the door Daniel was behind, somewhere in the apartment.

"It's ok baby, Daddy will come round, you'll see."

_I wanna run away from love,_

_This time I have had enough.  
>Every time I feel your touch,<em>

_I'm broken._

Daniel stood outside the door to their bedroom, no, _Wilhelmina's_bedroom and tried to prepare himself for what he would find inside. Would she be broken, like the woman he left in the hallway all those weeks ago when Marc made him leave? Would she be blinded by rage, like the woman who had fought him in the bathroom adjoined to the very room he now stood outside? He doubted he would find the same woman he had rediscovered at the retreat; the woman he was coming over here to meet, who he thought could finally be on the verge of forgiving him.

He found none of those women behind the door.

"Marc?" He asked, slowly as he swung the door open and saw Marc laying prone on the bed, stroking Hudson's spine with his knuckles. "Where is she?"

"You know, you'd think, for someone who used to be responsible for 50% of the country's condom sales, that they'd remember to wear one when cheating on their wife." Marc didn't look up from the line his knuckles made in Hudson's fur.

"Where is she!" He repeated louder.

Marc shrugged and just kept on stroking the dog. "Gone, she said she needed out and she just went. No explanation; but then..." He finally looked at Daniel. "One wasn't really required was it?"

Daniel walked into the room and sat on the edge of the bed, he looked down between his legs; head dipped. "How was she?" His throat seemed to have dried of all moisture and the words came out as a croak.

"Bad." Marc whispered. "I mean _bad_ Daniel, she just kept going on about things that don't even matter. She's not ready to face this, she was barely ready to fully contemplate life without you, and now this...God I can't believe this." He ended on a whisper, shaking his head.

"You can't believe it? She was gonna take me back Marc...I know it, I could _feel_it. At the retreat...something changed, it was us again."

Marc sat up on the bed and stared a hole through the back of Daniel's head. "You slept with her." It was a statement, not a question. He watched the Daniel slowly nod his head.

Something in Marc snapped. "When the hell will you realise that you can't solve your problems with sex? Sex is the _cause_ of all your god damn problems!"

Daniel slowly turned his head to Marc, still sitting with his head bowed; surprised by the drastic swing in demeanour. He watched Marc jump up from the bed dramatically, an unusual shade of crimson colouring his face. Such bouts of unrestrained anger were never seen on the man who Daniel had considered the peace keeper in his marriage on more than one occasion.

"What's it like, living in your head Daniel? 'Oh things are getting a bit difficult, what should I do? Should I try and sit down and talk it out like a normal human being? No, I know, down come the trousers!' You've ruined Willie, you've ruined Amanda and you've ruined any chance of me having a relationship with two of the people I care most about in the world. Get out, take Amanda and go!"

Daniel couldn't respond to the violent outburst by the younger but ultimately wiser man, he knew his words were the truth, he didn't bother denying them. He let them sink in and penetrate the cloud around him. "Amanda's already gone."

Marc laughed and bent slightly, slapping his hands on his thighs. "Nice Daniel, very classy. The woman you claim to love is God knows where in God knows what state and you've just sent your pregnant one night stand out in the night in the middle of winter...why these two..." He searched for the right word, hands at the side of his head; "_amazing_women are under your spell is beyond me!"

"You should go to Amanda, I think she needs a friend right now." He still chose to ignore the personal attack, Marc's opinion of him was hardly a surprise right now and the barrage of insults couldn't make him feel any worse than he already did; couldn't make a dent in the numbness.

"I think there's someone else more in need of a friend right now." He shot back, bitterly.

"Where do you think she is?"

Marc shook his head, staring out the window, calmer tone taking over his voice, worried for his friend, sad for himself and berating himself for not going after Willie. "Somewhere doing all she can to forget."

With that last word; Daniel hung his head down, he knew exactly where she was.

_Shattered all the pieces of parts.  
>Never thought I'd fall so hard.<br>I'm putting back together my heart, it's broken._

At a little after 4am, a woman stood at a tall slim window, a sheet clutched around her body, her arms hugging herself as she watched the few last minute stragglers head home from nights out and those early morning risers about to embark on a bitch of a commute. This time of day had always confused her, when the birds were singing but it was still dark out.

As she watched the noctivigant people below her, going about their night time wanderings, she would gladly trade places with any one of them. The drunken girl she could tell was crying into her cell phone about something which appeared tragic right now but would ultimately be laughable in the morning, the bedraggled woman she saw shielding herself from the cold as she hurried from the opposite townhouse, disgruntled at not seeing the morning light in with her family, the man she saw walking aimlessly along the sidewalk, hands dug deep in his pockets, lost in his inner world.

Or maybe they had it worse than she did. After all, how was she to know what afflictions these people faced in their lives? Would people know just by looking at her that she was breaking apart inside, that the thoughts in her mind were being drowned by the primal scream she was so desperate to release but fought so hard to contain? If she could trade places with anyone down there, would she find herself worse than she was now? Yes; because whatever pain she felt now, if she traded places, she would never have known what it felt like to love Daniel and to have him love her back. She would take all life could throw at her, to remember that feeling.

Behind her, Sawyer awoke as his hand searched for a body that wasn't there. He propped himself up on his elbow and looked at her through tired eyes; the soft blue hue of the moon caught her in the thin strip of light that cascaded over the room, lighting her features. Standing there, perfectly still, she looked like a statue, one which could be studied by countless scholars, none able to appropriately convey what thoughts lay behind the enigmatic mask.

He felt so consumed by the woman drowning by his window; lust, desire, affection, everything he was supposed to feel in this stage of a relationship, was coupled by the fear of losing her, if not physically, then emotionally to the man that still lived inside her head; he only hoped he could remove him from her heart. He wished he knew what was going on inside that beautiful, damaged mind.

_Her breath refused to come out in the controlled breaths she was trying to maintain, instead refusing to come out at all, holding in her chest. She could do it, she knew she could; she had been too hasty, too proud, too eager to do what everyone expected her to do. Screw everyone else, she wanted her husband back._

_The scene in her mind, of falling into his arms as he stood at the door, telling him she forgave him, letting him kiss her, letting him back into her home and her life, all vanished when she opened the door._

"_What the hell are you doing here?"_

"_I need to see Daniel."_

"_You have three seconds to get away from my door."_

"_Wilhelmina please..."_

"_Don't you dare ask me for anything, you've taken enough from me already."_

"_I just need to see him." The tears had started falling from her eyes and her voice cracked. Wilhelmina knew, with heart-wrenching clarity, just why the other woman had stooped to seeking out Daniel at her apartment._

_She shook her head, side to side, slowly, wishing away what she already knew to be true. "No...not this...you're pregnant."_

_The scene she had held so perfectly in her head only moments ago, shattered in her mind's eye when the younger woman nodded._

"She's having his baby."

He didn't know how she knew he was awake; her eyes had never once strayed from the window but he knew she was finally telling him the reason for her earlier appearance. "Shit." He whispered to himself, the single syllable carrying across the expanse of the room.

She smirked, the first movement her muscles had made since she stood at the window hours before, and it pained her. "That's one way to put it."

His mind searched for something to say, to find the right words, what were you supposed to say when the person you were falling hard and fast for was morose because her ex was fathering another woman's child? Should he comfort her, try and ease some of the turmoil she was in? Should he feel angry; angry that he wasn't enough for her? There were no right words, nothing he said would change the situation and he couldn't be angry with her, he couldn't bear to add to her melancholy.

With no words to be said, he climbed from the bed and walked to her, wrapping his arms around her from behind and letting her head fall back against his chest. "Come back to bed."

She turned in his arms, backing away slightly as she faced him, still in his embrace. She had made up her mind as she stood in her solitude, observing life pass her on the cold streets of the city. There had been too much hurt, too many lies and games; none of which had stemmed from the man who held her in his arms. She couldn't keep it to herself, she couldn't start out another relationship based on an indiscretion when her last one had exploded so spectacularly on one.

"There's something you should know." Her voice was calm, controlled as she swallowed deeply. She tried to distance herself further still, wanting to initiate the separation of their bodies so as not to feel the full devastation when he ripped himself from her when she said what she needed to say and hurt the man who deserved nothing but her affection.

"Something happened..." she dipped her head, unable to watch his eyes as she confessed her deed. "...at the retreat."

"You know what?" He said brightly, forcing her head up to look at him and cutting her off. "I was thinking, we've been dancing around this thing for a while now. How bout we make it official, what's the word you northerners use? Exclusive, that's it!" His tone was far too happy in the atmosphere that pervaded the room.

She shook her head, taken aback, confused at his sudden and unexpected request. "What are you talking about?"

He moved his hands from around her waist and grabbed both of hers in them, clasping them to his chest. "What I'm saying is..._from now on_...it's just me and you. Anything that came before...I don't need to know. But this is it, no one else, it's time."

She looked deep into him, and then and there she knew he already knew. He wasn't blaming her, wasn't torturing her for her moment of weakness, for seeking closure with the man who had claimed her for the past four years. He was giving her a way out, for them to get past it. He didn't need to address it, the look in his eyes told her that it hurt him, but he understood. It hadn't been about cheating on him, it had been about an ending to a whole other chapter in her life; and now he was asking her to start a new one. She nodded at him, fighting the burning behind her eyes at the gratitude she felt towards him.

"It's time."

Sawyer's lips slowly curled into that smile that never ceased to take her breath away and he lowered his head to meet hers, lips brushing lightly over hers as he moved his body to close the distance between them again. As the kiss deepened his hands moved at the sheet around her until it fell away from her. His hands moved down her, curving around her thighs and he lifted her to him, lips never breaking contact as her legs locked around him. Holding her, he moved back to the bed and sat down with her astride him when his legs hit the mattress. She stopped kissing him and ran her hand through his hair, "How did I deserve you?" She asked him the question she had asked herself so many times since he entered her life.

In response he simply smiled at her again and captured her lips again. As she felt his hands travelling up her body, she lost herself in the kiss.

She knew Daniel would never fully leave her thoughts, she knew she would still experience moments of remembering his touch on her body. But this night, this time...

It was Sawyer.

_You can take these photographs_

_and watch them fade away.  
>You can through away all these letters,<em>

_I don't care about what they say._

The next morning, when she awoke, it was to the sound of her Blackberry beeping madly. She ignored the tens of missed calls and texts from Marc, seeking her whereabouts, and opened the only one from Claire. She had followed Daniel and Wilhelmina's example and left the retreat. There was only one more day to go and she saw no need for her to remain as they last day was free time. She had asked Wilhelmina to come to her house to meet with Fey as previously arranged.

As much as she could think of a million other people she would rather see than the parents of the two people who helped destroy her world, she knew she would have to do it eventually; she decided to bite the bullet and get it over with. Reluctantly, she had left Sawyer sleeping in the bed, placing a farewell kiss on his temple as he slept and leaving a note on the pillow telling him to come to hers that night. She felt that by keeping him around she could focus more on what he has trying to build with her and not what was falling down around her. She knew his feelings for her ran deep and she hoped that one day she would feel the same for him; he was a good man.

The driver held open the door and she stepped out of the car Claire had sent for her. She was wearing the same dress she had ran out of the apartment in; still too nervous to return in case Daniel had decided to wait for her. She looked up at the house which held a so many memories. Ones which filled her with shame and she tried to visit as little as possible; her time with Bradford. And ones which she would hold onto forever; Christmases, Thanksgivings, any holiday when Claire gathered her children together and for the first time in a long time, once the marriage was finally accepted, she had felt herself part of a real family.

Shaking her head swiftly, eager to stop reminiscing, she climbed the stairs and Claire opened the door before she even made it to the top. "You came." She sounded surprised.

"Why wouldn't I?"

Claire stood back to let her in. "I thought with how we left things at the retreat, you might be more...difficult."

"Me? Claire darling, when have you ever known me to be difficult?"

Claire smiled as she closed the door behind Wilhelmina, glad that their exchange of words had not led her to cut her out. "Her highness is waiting in the drawing room."

"Joy." She rolled her eyes and began to walk through to meet Fey. From the greeting she had received it was clear to Wilhelmina that she didn't know of her son's recent news of impending fatherhood.

When she walked in the room, Fey was sitting in a high-backed armchair right in the centre of the room. Her hands clasped over her crossed legs, still hiding behind sunglasses in the middle of winter. Wilhelmina snorted in mild amusement; the woman still liked to make sure she kept a commanding presence even when hiding from the world.

"So, where were we?" Fey jumped right in, forgoing any forced pleasantries. "Oh yes, we were about to find out just how you snagged your dear Prince Charming."

Wilhelmina shook her head once, sighing. "Why is this so important?"

Fey looked at Wilhelmina and then at Claire; three of the most formidable women she could recall and all in the same room, all with a shared complicated past. She thought she knew both of the women standing before her, in her own way. Fey and Claire, Fey and Wilhelmina and Claire and Wilhelmina; all shared an intricate past, but never before had they been so tightly linked, bound by the same scenario.

Wilhelmina saw Fey's eyes lingering on her through the tinted lenses. She didn't want to divulge anything about her relationship with Daniel; not because it was painful, not because it was all too raw, because it was sacred, it was nobody's business but theirs, no matter how enthralling people would find the evolution of their relationship.

"I didn't think you'd care about any of this anymore." She turned to look at Claire, standing behind her. "Either of you, shouldn't you two be searching for knitting patterns and discussing names...like all expectant grandparents do?"

Wilhelmina watched as Claire's face paled and her jaw went slack; she shook her head slowly and brought her hand to her mouth and Wilhelmina felt bad for the callous way she had sprung the news on her; however it wasn't done as cruelly as it was to her.

Claire started to sink onto the arm of the sofa behind her, at the same time her hand reached out for Wilhelmina, to offer some sort of comfort. Wilhelmina heard a great sigh from behind her and turned to see Fey pinching the bridge of her nose. "Stupid, stupid child." She hissed under her breath. "Well I tried." She flapped her hands in front of her.

"Tried?" Wilhelmina arched her eyebrow, incredulous at her choice of words. "One meeting with the girl in thirty years and that's your idea of trying?"

"I never thought she would be this stupid. I wash my hands of it."

Willie stood agape. "She's your daughter. I have every reason to hate her, but you're her mother! How can you turn your back on her, when she needs you, so soon after coming back into her life?"

Fey whipped her sunglasses from her head and pinned Willie with her eyes. "How is dear Nico these days?"

Willie's jaw clenched. "My relationship with my daughter is completely different and you know it! Amanda has never betrayed you, you have no reason to cast her aside, just because she hasn't made the choices you want her to."

"And why are you so concerned about her wellbeing Willie? I would think you would want every punishment available to fall on around those pretty shoulders of hers."

She swallowed, dipping her head. "I did..." She looked back up, forcing her eyes back to Fey's. "But now there's a child... _his_ child." She whispered. "I should go."

She moved to leave, Claire held the top of her arm, making her face her and tried to read her eyes. The contact enough to make Wilhelmina's eyes fill again. She lifted her hand to remove Claire's from her arm. "Don't...I can't handle any more pity."

Claire retracted her hand, balling it into a fist and forcing it down beside her body, never did she think she would feel so much pain on the behalf of the woman in front of her. "I'm sorry." Were the only words she could think to offer, though she knew they did nothing to appease Willie.

Wilhelmina smiled sadly at her friend, both of them knowing that the relationship they had managed to build bit by bit in the past four years would more than likely not stand the upcoming test. Claire would, of course, want to be part of her grandchild's life, no matter how it came to be; and Wilhelmina would want no part in it.

She walked to the door, putting an end to the pointless meeting; pulling it open she turned to Fey and gave her one last scathing look as she departed. The woman's reappearance had helped no-one, the great Fey Sommers wasn't so great after all.

"You should have stayed dead."

_All those sorrys,_

_there's a million reasons why_

_you can't mend me,_

_don't even try._

Marc sat on the edge of the desk in his office, staring at a picture on the desk of him and Amanda the day he had gotten his promotion. The pay was better, the office bigger, he commanded more respect and was highly regarded since had had became Senior Fashion Editor, but right now he longed to be back in front of Wilhelmina's office, sneaking calls to Amanda, back in the days where everything was simple.

A soft tapping on his door, lifted his gaze and he tried to cheer himself as Betty smiled softly at him. "So, Willie's coming back in this afternoon, guess we're not in charge anymore?" She spoke in a quiet tone, skirting around the subject playing on both their minds.

"I guess not, I think we did good Suarez." He bumped her lightly with his shoulder.

She smiled back. "We did." He smile fell slightly as she approached the subject at hand. "I spoke to Amanda this morning, she said you didn't come home."

"I stayed at Willie's."

"Marc, Amanda needs you, she didn't plan any of this. It's not like she went out and did it again, it's...a consequence of what already happened."

"I'm not mad at her about the baby, Betty." He tried to explain to her. "I'm mad because she wants to raise it with Daniel, you say she didn't plan it, but would she have done it any differently if she had? I know her Betty, I know how her fear of being alone sometimes consumes her, but I've always been there. I can deal with the baby, I can deal with the fact that it's Daniel's. I can't deal with the fact that she is using it as a way to make him be with her...I know that's what she's doing."

Betty knew that the intricacies of the Marc and Amanda dynamic were unfathomable to anyone but the two of them, so she didn't try to change his mind. If he was turning his back on her, he was not doing it lightly. For all of the insults and jibes she had suffered at both their hands in earlier years, she knew that Marc was not a malicious or bad person, she knew he was hurting too.

"You know...it's only five days 'til Christmas, I'm guessing you won't be having your annual pilgrimage to Atlantic city with Amanda this year...you wanna do it à la Suarez?" She offered, brightly, wanting to see the goofy smile she was used to seeing shining back at her.

He shook his head. "Willie's first Christmas without Daniel? I think I'm gonna stay with her...maybe I can convince Sawyer too, get him to help me empty my stocking."

Betty clapped weakly, "You made a joke, yay."

He laughed. "Plus, I figured; Daniel isn't going to be in the festive mood and Alexis isn't coming over this year. I think I could get Mrs Meade to come too. I need to show Willie she's not alone."

"You're a good man Marc St James; and a wonderful friend." She kissed his cheek.

Marc lifted his eyes to her. "I need you to do something for me."

_I wanna run away from love,_

_this time I have had enough.  
>Every time I feel your touch,<em>

_I'm broken._

"I had to find out from Wilhelmina." Claire berated her youngest son as he sat behind the large desk in the penthouse office. As soon as Wilhelmina had left, she had called a car and headed into the city.

"I'm still trying to work through it Mom, I'm sorry that between my ex-wife and pregnant fling, you don't rank higher!" He was getting angry, all he needed was time and it was the one thing no one would give him. He took deep breaths. "I...I need you to do something for me."

Claire quirked her brow at him, folding her arms. "This should be good."

Daniel toyed with a pen in his hands, jabbing it into the blotter on the desk. "I need...she...Amanda shouldn't be alone Mom, I don't know how supportive Marc is going to be and I'm just not there yet."

"What are you asking me?"

"Can you let her stay in the house with you, just until we sort out where we're gonna go from here?"

Claire smiled at her son and walked around the table, she cupped his face and tilted it to look at her. "Oh darling, I am your mother and you know I will do whatever I can to help you." Her smile faded and she released his head. "But not this. Grow up, take responsibilities for your mistakes and clean up your own mess. I will support you and this child when it comes...but don't ask me to take the cause of all this unpleasantness into my home."

Daniel felt himself drawn back into his own guilt, how could he look after a child he couldn't even acknowledge existed. His mother was right, this wasn't about him anymore; it was about a brand new life. He opened his mouth to tell his mother she was right but was interrupted by the ringing of the phone. He snatched it up.

"Mr Meade, you said you wanted to be notified as soon as Ms Slater entered the building." His assistants voice came down the line, the echo of which could also be heard in the hall.

"Thank you." He went to hang up.

"Sir!" The voice on the other end stopped him. "Before you go, I have your accountant on the line he says it's urgent."

Daniel huffed, eager to get down and try and speak to his ex. "Fine, put him through."

Daniel was listening half heartedly to the man rambling on the phone, rocking in his chair, willing him to hang up. Suddenly he stopped rocking and sat bolt upright in the chair.

"Say that again." He asked the man on the call, unsure he had heard him correctly.

As his accountant repeated himself, Daniel's eyes looked into his mother's questioning ones. "Oh my God."

_Shattered all the pieces of parts.  
>Never thought I'd fall so hard.<br>I'm putting back together my heart, it's broken._

He leaned against the doorframe of her office, watching her as she stood in front of her desk with her back to him. She was busy, engrossed in the task before her but he could see the subtle stoop in her stance as she balanced the weight of the world on her shoulders. He had never felt further from her than in this moment.

"My accountant just called me." He called to her, he saw her jump slightly as his voice startled her.

Wilhelmina faced him slowly, holding a pile of prints in her hands. "I guessed he would." She nodded.

"He told me a substantial amount of money just went into my account."

"It did." She agreed.

He pushed himself from the door and walked in, arms hanging uselessly at his side. How in the space of 24 hours had they gone from the verge of reconciliation, back to this? "You want to tell me why?"

"It's the money I got in the divorce."

"I know what it is Willie...I'm asking why."

Ignoring the question she picked up papers from the other side of her desk and brought them to him. He took them from her outstretched hand, is thumb brushing her skin as he did so; this smallest of contact sent waves through them both. "This is a contract giving you ownership of 25% of my shares...it's yours again. 50/50, the way it should be."

He lifted the top page and scanned the document, uninterested in what it said. "Why are you..."

"You're going to be a father Daniel...you need to support your family."

"You're my family." He tried to reach for her, she held the Mode book between them like a barrier.

"Not anymore." She shook her head, letting go of the last trace of hope she had for her marriage. "Sign it, or have your lawyers check it out, whatever." She addressed him as if this were any other business deal.

"I don't want it." He placed the papers on the drawers next to him.

"Don't be ridiculous Daniel. This isn't about you, take it; take it for your child." The pain that ripped through her when she spoke those words was indescribable, but she wouldn't let it show. The thought of Daniel raising this child killed her. "I never wanted it anyway."

"What?"

She took a deep breath, leaning her head back. "I wanted to hurt you, I wanted to take away something you cared about, I thought it would make me feel better...it made me worse. I stopped being all about money and power a long time ago. I took it all just to punish you."

"Is that what you're doing now? Punishing me?"

Wilhelmina's head shook at him. "No." She wasn't lying. "I'm not mad anymore Daniel, I simply don't have the energy to be; I'm just...I don't know what I am. Sign the contract, you can have everything back."

"Not everything." He whispered.

"No." She agreed, softly, knowing her was referring to her. "Not everything...sign." She handed him a pen.

Daniel took it from her, noting that she held it in the very tips of her fingers, trying to keep the contact from happening again. Leaning over the drawers he signed his name and just like that he was co-owner again, they shared everything 50%, except their lives.

They were back to where they were four years ago, as if nothing had ever happened. She lifted the contract and set it aside to be messengered to her lawyers. She tried to stop her eyes from locking with his, but they were inexplicably drawn. She could see his mind turning, searching for some words to say, under his eyes for too long, she could feel herself cracking. Never was she more grateful to experience the flickering lights above and buzzing from the electrics; she stepped back allowing it to break her trance.

"Aren't you even going to talk to me about this?"

"I've said I'm not mad anymore, that doesn't mean I want to hear about you raising someone else's kid. There's only so much I can take Daniel."

"Willie please." He grabbed her arms, going around the shield she had put up between them. "There's a way, I know there is, we were back there. We can figure something out...I don't want her, I don't want this baby. I mean. I'll be there, I'll love it and I'll be the best dad I know how to be, but if I had a choice it would always be you."

There were the words she knew she would hear, the words she knew would have the power to break her down and therefore the very words she had steeled herself for all afternoon, she didn't let them through the armour around her.

"We're making a go of it." She said abruptly. "Me and Sawyer."

He let go of her arms, defeat written all over his face. Wilhelmina swallowed and forced her throat to work as she said the hardest words she would ever have to say.

"Maybe you should do the same."

Daniel couldn't believe what he heard, she couldn't possibly be telling him to try and build a life with his greatest mistake, could she? He backed away, unable to listen anymore, unable to hear her speak with the rationality in her mind instead of her heart. "Daniel?" She called softly when he was at the door.

When he faced her he felt everything inside break for the thousandth time when he saw the wetness shining in her eyes as she tried to force herself to smile at him. He watched her breath shallowly, trying to get her voice to work, when it finally did it was nothing more than a whisper.

"You're going to be a wonderful father."

_I know it's gonna take some time,_

_to finally realize.  
>I got nothing left inside,<em>

_nothing to hide, I'm broken_

After what felt like the longest day she had ever experienced, she was finally home. She was surprised to hear her stomach growl as the smell of food pervaded her. She didn't know if it was a rare bout of real hunger pangs or simply for the southerner she knew would be preparing the food in yet another attempt to get her to eat a full, decent meal.

For the countless time that day, she found herself eternally thankful for Sawyer. She walked into the kitchen and found the first genuine smile of the day creep over her face as she watched him lean over the rarely used stove. Taking a big mouthful of pasta from the spoon. She laughed as he brought his fingers and thumb up to his mouth in a comical gesture, obviously pleased with his culinary skills.

Her laugh broke his attention and he looked over at her, instantly offering his smile. She swore that man was the human Hudson. Speaking of, the puppy was sitting patiently at Sawyer's feet, happily awaiting scraps that Sawyer surreptitiously dropped down from the counter.

"You know, you're not supposed to encourage that." She mock scolded him as he "accidentally" knocked a small piece of meat from the counter into the waiting puppy's jaws.

"Ah, but this tastes so good, I couldn't deprive him of it, c'mere." He held his hand out.

As she walked to him, she extended her own hand and as soon as they were close enough, Sawyer clasped it and pulled her into him, her back into his chest as he placed one arm across her collarbone protectively. "Try this."

She looked in the big pot on her stove. "Mmmm, big vat of carbs? No thank you."

He chuckled, "Well try this then." He dipped two fingers in the sauce and brought them two her mouth, twisting her head slightly, she looked at him sideways and he grinned. She parted her lips and took his fingers in her mouth and licked the sauce from them.

"Well?" He asked.

She pulled back and smacked her lips together. "I suppose I could allow myself a little." She smiled, the delicious taste still in her mouth. She doubted there was anything this man couldn't do.

"Okay, a little? That's something! We're getting there!" He smiled, proud of his accomplishment.

Willie looked at the counter and saw the plates he had laid out, she furrowed her brow, puzzled. "Why three?"

"Ah." Sawyer put the spoon back in the pot and took her hand again. He slowly walked her through to the living room and she tilted her head to the side when she saw Marc slumped on her sofa. She remained staring at him as she felt Sawyer kiss her temple and let go of her hand, walking back to the kitchen.

Willie came to the sofa and sat down beside Marc, looking at his vacant stare with worry. "Marc?"

"I'm so sorry Willie." He whispered, still looking ahead. "I can't imagine what this is doing to you."

She put her hand over his and smiled at him, feeling lucky to be blessed with such a friend. "Marc, I'll get through this, c'mon, you know me, nothing Wilhelmina Slater down for long. I'll be bigger, badder and better than ever soon, you'll see." She chuckled lightly. "You know I appreciate everything you're doing for me, I can't tell you how much...but you need to stop getting twisted up in this, you need to stop putting your life on hold for me. You don't need to constantly run around here to make sure I'm okay...I'm sure you and Sawyer could work out some sort of shift pattern." She tried joking with him again but the smile still wouldn't come to his face.

"That's not why I'm here...this time, I need you."

Willie followed his eyes to where he stared and her gaze fell upon a stack of bags in the corner of the room. "Betty got it all I think." He said sadly, having asked his friend to pack his things and bring them to him, unable to face the end of one of his most treasured friendships.

Wilhelmina felt awash in shame, not once, throughout this whole thing, did she realise the toll it was taking on her young friend. She had failed to see that parts of his life were going up in smoke along with hers. "You left." She stated, the words coming out in a breath.

He finally turned his face to hers and nodded slowly. Wilhelmina hated herself, hated Daniel and hated Amanda in that moment, when she saw the anguish in Marc's eyes. He had done nothing, he had been nothing but a good man and friend to them both and now he was suffering for it. "Can I stay here?" His voice croaked, sounding like the little lost boy he was inside.

In one move she wrapped an arm around him and scooted closer on the sofa, bring his head to her shoulder as she hugged him. He dipped his head and hugged her back, hands gripping at her back fiercely. She felt the shame heighten when she felt the wetness of his tears on his shoulder.

"For as long as you want."

_I'm Broken_

_Save, save me_

_I'm Broken_


	19. The Heart Of The Matter

**The heart of the matter**

_I got the call today, I didn't wanna hear  
>But I knew that it would come<br>An old true friend of ours was talkin' on the phone  
>She said you found someone<em>

When Wilhelmina woke up, days after the pregnancy had hit them all in all its unexpectedness, her ears were greeted by the unusual sound of bells. She scrunched up her nose and looked around the room, trying to locate the source of the noise, but within seconds she registered it must come from outside. After all, why should there be jingling bells in her house?

Kicking the sheets away, grudgingly, she dragged herself out of the bed, shivering at the cold. "Why doesn't this damned heater work as it should?" she whispered annoyed, while she recovered the first robe she could find and put it on. Then she looked down, confused at Hudson's absence. It was very early, she had told Sawyer Marc would take the puppy out for a walk that morning, but it was early for Marc too. No way he would ever get up before 9, at least; it was still 7.30am.

Opening the door, she realized the bells came indeed from within those walls, not outside, and her curiosity grew bigger as to why there were bells in her house. She had been adamant she didn't want any Christmas decorations around the house, this year. Actually she didn't feel like celebrating at all.

Pushing the doors that separated the corridor from the main room, she stood on the threshold, her hands still on the doors, as she took in the scene unfolding before her eyes. In the corner of the room was a huge white tree, with shiny silver decorations and an elegant silver angel on top of it. "What the…" she whispered, but stopped when a person came out from behind the tree, unaware of her presence.

Marc was singing, quite out of tune, some old Christmas carol, meanwhile fixing the lightening around the tree. His head lolled from side to side, as he swayed his hips slowly and, in his opinion, seductively. Hudson was just behind him, jumping and trying to catch a big, white ball from one of the lower branches.

She cleared her throat, and the puppy immediately gave up on his task, rushing at her feet and yapping madly as a way of greeting. Marc turned around and his eyes widened. Wilhelmina took a step forward, and Marc immediately positioned himself in front of the tree, opening his arms wide in a defensive way.

"Don't hurt the tree," he exclaimed.

"Marc, I'm not going to hurt your stupid tree." Shi sighed and stepped forward, looking up at the angel standing at the top. "Though I remember stating clearly I didn't want any of this stuff in my house."

"Willie," he said, patronizingly. "It's Christmas. If you don't put up some decorations and cook gingerbread and stuff, Santa will be deeply offended and won't leave any presents for you."

Wilhelmina lifted an eyebrow. "I feel stupid asking, but it's you, and I never know. You don't really believe in Santa, do you?"

"Not the bearded fat old man they want him to be," Marc said, looking up and sighing, batting his eyelashes dramatically. "In my childhood memories, I remember him as a twenty year old surfer from Florida, with sculpted abs and a killer ass."

Wilhelmina looked down at Hudson, who had resumed jumping and growling at the same ball as before. She bent over and picked him up, ignoring the puppy's complaints. "He's getting bigger," she said, holding him. "You and Sawyer let him eat like a piglet."

"You can't say no to those big baby eyes," Marc said, bending so that his face was level with the dog. He puckered his lips, and the dog's tongue darted out and licked the whole length of his face. Marc stood up, with a grimace, and wiped himself with the back of his hand. "I took a shower already, baby dog," he said.

Wilhelmina smirked and turned his back on marc, heading for the kitchen, when her eyes were drawn to the colorful images on the TV screen. "Marc, why are you watching alien flicks?"

"What do you mean?" Marc asked, busy with the lights again.

"There's a red alien on my TV," she drawled. "And he talks funny."

He looked over his shoulder and smiled. "It's the Teletubbies."

"The Telewhat?" she asked, staring at the screen, unable to take her eyes away from the ridiculous four little creatures jumping about her TV screen, waving idiotically at the screen. "Marc, have you gone all stupid all of a sudden?"

"Willie! Don't tell me you've never watched Teletubbies!" he said, eyes falling out of their sockets. "How did you spend your mornings, when you were a little cutsie diva?"

"Being a little _cutsie_ diva."

"Alright," he said, leaving the lighting task and coming to stand at her side. "You see the little red one? That's my favorite, his name's-"

"Marc, I don't wanna know the Telefreak's name," she said, walking away and shooting a last disgusted look to the TV. "Why are you watching those anyway?" she asked, putting Hudson back down. As soon as his paws had hit the floor, the little hurricane scurried over to the tree, resuming his battle against the white ball.

Marc's voice dropped an octave, and she could perceive the layer of sadness. "It's a tradition," he said, with a bitter smile. "Every Christmas Eve morning Mandy and I would go around the house singing _All I want for Christmas_and watching the Teletubbies."

Wilhelmina's shoulders fell, and she pursed her lips, thinking. With a sigh she walked back to Marc and looked ahead, at the TV. "Alright, you may tell me the little monsters' names, but I'm not going to sing, is that clear?"

Marc brightened up, and began telling her of the little aliens, mimicking their little funny voices and their funny moves, getting all worked up over the description. Wilhelmina feigned interest, something she hardly ever did, but that she was glad to do this time, after all the sacrifices the man had gone through to help her, and all the pain he had suffered for their mistakes.

The noise of a key in the lock made them turn around, and she couldn't hide the smirk when the tall, imposing man walked through the door. Even Hudson forgot the ball he hated so much to rush over to the visitor.

"Good morning, Slater family," Sawyer exclaimed, bending to pat the dog on the back.

"I'm a Slater!" Marc said, clapping his hands. "My life mission is accomplished, I can die a happy gay now."

Wilhelmina shook her head, rolling her eyes. Sawyer leaned in to kiss her, and she sneaked her arms around his neck, keeping him close. He smiled against her lips, and she bit down on his bottom lip, lightly.

"Innocent eyes and ears over here!" Marc chimed in, pointing at Hudson and himself. Wilhelmina pulled back and shifted her eyes on him, lifting an eyebrow. Marc, with a deep sigh, looked down at Hudson and smiled. "Baby dog, mommy wants to be alone with her new boyfriend," he said in a singsong voice. Picking up Hudson, Marc winked at Wilhelmina and disappeared behind the kitchen door.

"I thought you didn't want any Christmas decorations, this year," he said, his gaze falling upon the tree.

"Oh that," she said, following his stare. "Marc thinks Santa won't leave any presents if I don't welcome him in the proper, traditional way," she explained, her arms still around his neck. "If I can tell you my honest opinion, if Santa had been real he would have had me hung a long time ago."

"That means you're on the naughty list?" he asked, running his hands down her sides and stopping on her hips.

She pressed herself against him and smirked. "Always."

He smiled widely and gave her a quick peck on the lips before pulling hastily back and looking around. "What are your plans for tonight?" he asked.

Wilhelmina's arms fell from his neck, down her sides, and she shrugged. "I was invited to Vera Wang's, tonight," she said, unenthusiastically. "You know, sometimes I wish they would just stick with fashion shows and not invite me to their holidays parties."

"Then don't go," he told her, simply.

"Sawyer, as much as I love the way you and Marc are keeping up with this tight schedule, trying not to leave me alone…I don't need a babysitter," she said.

"I'm not offering to babysit you," he retorted. "I'm offering you a normal night instead of a boring night full of formalities and people who'll be staring at you wondering if you'll break down and cry."

Wilhelmina tilted her head to the side, folding her arms against her chest. "You know, this is the most honest you've been with me ever since we've known each other," she exclaimed, impressed.

Sawyer lowered his head in a mock bow. "But still, I mean it. This is not a working obligation, you don't _have_to go, if you don't want to go." He paused, stretching his hand to take hers. "Let's stay here. You, me…"

"Marc!" came the squealing voice from the other room.

Sawyer and Wilhelmina burst out laughing. "Yeah," he continued. "Marc too. And maybe…you can call Claire?"

Wilhelmina's face fell.

"Think about it. You decide. But just…She's going to be alone too," he said, shrugging. "She's been nothing but nice to me, so no problems under that aspect. But I'm not going to force anything on you," he added quickly. "Just think about it. Ok?"

Wilhelmina sighed deeply and ran a hand through her hair.

"I guess you have a point."

_And I thought of all the bad luck,  
>And all the struggles we went through<br>How I lost me and you lost you  
>What are these voices outside love's open door<br>Make us throw off our contentment  
>And beg for something more?<em>

"You're sleeping on the couch?" Amanda asked, confused, when she saw Daniel bent over, fumbling with sheets and covers. He looked at her and nodded. "But…why?"

Daniel straightened himself and turned to Amanda, slowly. "Amanda, I'm going to be extremely blunt. I'm still in shock. I don't think this baby will fix whatever was broken in between us, in the first place. There's nothing I can do, and I assured you I would do my best to support you and our kid, but…for the time being, let's take it one step at a time."

"Daniel, I'm going to be extremely blunt too, then," she said, one hand over her hip and the other caressing her stomach. "I'm not going to have this baby in one of those broken house in which the parents never want him. I've had enough of loveless parents, and God forbid I have my child go through the same hell."

Daniel looked down on her stomach and his stare softened immediately thinking of the little life Amanda was carrying inside her. No matter how, that was his child, maybe his only chance at being a father. How many times, in the last couple of days, had he lost himself in wonderings: would it be a boy, to whom he would teach everything about baseball? Or would it be a little girl, and would he spend the rest of his life steering creepy boys away from his little princess. How would she be? Would she be blonde, like Amanda? Would he be shy, or would he be a player?

He looked up into Amanda's eyes, and with a small smile he apologized. "I'm sorry," he told her. "I'm not trying to be one of those people, Amanda. I swear. If only you knew how long I've waited to be a father, and now that it's ahead…I…"

Amanda closed the distance in between them and brought her hands up to his cheeks, smiling softly. "I'm scared too," she said, knowing exactly what he meant. "But we can do this. We can give this child all the love it needs. And who knows, maybe on the way we can find what we lost too."

Daniel swallowed and looked down. "Maybe," he whispered.

Amanda nodded satisfied and took a step back, her hands flying back to her stomach, stroking it. That was something she had been doing subconsciously for the last three days, Daniel had noticed, and he smiled at how the last woman on Earth he would ever have thought could be affected by that maternal instincts had become a bear momma in less than a week.

"It's Christmas Eve!" she exclaimed, changing subject. "I'm not good at cooking, so I thought we could crash Betty's family's big, fat, Mexican dinner!"

"You have any idea what Justin might do, if he sees me and you stepping over the threshold?" Daniel told her. "He will positively cover us with gasoline and set us on fire."

"One hater out of four people?" Amanda said, sarcastic. "That's a big improvement for our standards, trust me."

For the first time, in three days, Daniel laughed.

_I've been learning to live without you now  
>But I miss you sometimes<br>The more I know, the less I understand  
>All the things I thought I knew, I'm learning them again<em>

Fey held the remote lazily in her hand, her eyes were fixed blankly on the TV screen, seeing right through it. Wilhelmina's words had put her in the worst mood, and so had the news of Amanda's pregnancy. She felt powerless, a feeling she had not experienced in a long time, a feeling she had faked her death to run away from.

"What are you doing, tonight?"

Fey turned around to see her sister dressed in a black long dress, with white pearls adorning her neck. She snorted and returned her eyes on the TV screen. "Ignoring Christmas yet another year."

"You want me to stay home?" Julia asked, fidgeting with the clasp of her purse.

"God, no," Fey snapped, not even looking at her. "I'd rather keep up with the Kardashians marathon than exchange fake pleasantries with you."

Julia sighed and nodded. "As you wish," she said, her voice layered with anger and melancholy at the same time. "Call me if you need anything."

Fey didn't acknowledge her sister walking to the door, but looked at her before she could open the door. Almost as if she had felt her sister's stare on her, Julia turned around.

"You don't have to be alone, you know?" she said. "You have a daughter. You will be a grandmother sooner than you think. You have another chance at a family. Something we, clearly, never were."

Before Fey could answer, Julia had already left the apartment. Fey looked outside, where the sun was disappearing behind New York's skyline. She felt enraged by her sister's predicament, but she knew deep inside there was some truth.

She didn't have to be alone, she might have a family. She might have a chance at life, again, after death. Away from Bradford, away from Mode, away from all that had caused her pain. Even Claire was a small obstacle, when compared to the chance of being a normal woman.

But she shook her head, shoving the thought away. She had decided not to be normal, she had decided to be alone. There was no turning back from that.

Or was there?

_I've been tryin' to get down to the Heart of the Matter  
>But my will gets weak<br>And my thoughts seem to scatter  
>But I think it's about forgiveness<br>Forgiveness  
>Even if, even if you don't love me anymore<em>

"Sawyer, I need you to say it again," she said, looking down at the table, where four plates had been placed on the red tablecloth. "Say everything's going to be fine and that it won't end in a pool of blood."

"Calm down," he said, from the couch, where he had Hudson rolled on his laps. "If anything, I should be worried," he told her, craning his neck to look at her. "Should I be worried?"

"I hope not," Wilhelmina whined, not taking her eyes off the table. "MARC!" she yelled.

The man peeked into the room from the kitchen door. "Oui mademoiselle?" he asked.

"I told you no wine!" she exclaimed, grabbing the bottle she had eyed amongst the others. "We don't want a mean, angry, drunk Claire sitting at the same table with Sawyer. Or with me, actually."

"But…no alcohol? At all?" he exclaimed with pleading eyes.

"You can keep it in the fridge, and you'll sneak in here and pour yourself a glass now and then, but you have to drink it in here!" Wilhelmina exclaimed, thrusting the bottle in Marc's hands. "Now go, finish the salad."

"Am I going to have extra compensation for tonight?"

"Go," she hissed, pushing him back into the kitchen. Turning round, she resumed looking at the table with a concerned expression.

"Will you stop worrying?"

She looked up and saw Sawyer leaning against the doorframe, with an amused smile. She snorted, and rubbed her temple. "No, I won't stop worrying until this night is over," she exclaimed.

He pushed himself off the doorframe and circled the table, coming up behind her and circling her waist. "Everything will be fine," he whispered into her ear. "Claire and I have even been alone a couple of times, and as you can see I'm still whole and alive. The night will be perfect, and we will all be civil and polite, and mommy won't have to worry about anything."

She turned in his arms and lifted an eyebrow. ""Did you just call me _mommy?_" she asked.

"Actually, I meant Marc."

She opened her mouth to reply, when they were interrupted by a weak ring of the doorbell. Sawyer, reading the panic in Wilhelmina's eyes, held her still, close against him. "Breathe," he instructed, and she did as he told him, inhaling deeply and exhaling. "You want me to go open up?" he offered, watching her overreacting amused.

"No," she said, shaking her head quickly. "I'll go."

She started to disentangle herself from his hug, but he pulled her back to him and kissed her deeply, caressing her tongue with his. She felt her knees go weak, and just when she began to respond to the kiss, the doorbell rang again, longer this time.

Sawyer pulled back with a sigh, and let her go alone, watching her as she walked unsteadily and insecure towards the door. She turned around, her hand on the doorknob. He nodded, trying to reassure her.

She opened up and Claire held up a bottle.

Wine.

Wilhelmina sighed.

Women and children first, no one was safe.

_These times are so uncertain  
>There's a yearning undefined<br>And people filled with rage  
>We all need a little tenderness<br>How can love survive in such a graceless age_

In a completely different house, a completely different woman stood in the exact same situation, biting nervously down on her nails while her Father set up the table for seven people. When Amanda had called her, casually mentioning how Daniel and she had nothing special to do, she had figured out immediately the real intentions of the girl. She had invited them over, much to Justin's dislike and Ignacio's pleasure.

That was the thing about her father: no matter what, he would always make an effort to forgive people, to see the good in everyone. She used to be like that, long before the real world showed her that sometime there isn't a good side, sometimes you just have to accept the bad side of it and move past it.

"Justin, are you ready?" Hilda yelled.

They heard footsteps coming hurriedly down the stairs, and Justin entered the room, wearing a flamboyant fuchsia Team Slater shirt.

"No way," Betty deadpanned. "Go and get changed."

Justin rolled his eyes and ran back up the stairs. When the boy was out of sight, Betty turned to Hilda. "Just how many of those does he have? I've seen him wear a different Team Slater shirt every day ever since I came back."

Hilda sneered. "You wouldn't believe it, he has a whole stock, one for every day of the week. And he goes and buys a new one once a week. The guy is obsessed, I swear if he wasn't, you know, gay, he might have a crush on Wilhelmina Slater."

Again, Justin came down the stairs, this time wearing a bright red jumper, with white linings. Hilda smiled and gave him two thumbs up. "Much better," Betty said, satisfied.

As the bell rang, Betty, Hilda and Justin spun around, looking at the door. They could see two shadows behind the little curtains, and Betty took a deep breath, turning briefly to shoot a brief warning glare in Justin's direction.

"I'll behave," the boy said, lifting his hands.

Betty opened up and looked up at Daniel and Amanda's face, taking in the difference in between the two.

While Amanda was positively glowing, her face split by a wide smile, Daniel's defeated expression could hardly be hidden by the small smile he offered her. She stepped aside, letting them in.

Amanda smiled at Hilda, and in that moment Justin let out a big sigh.

"Oh my God. It's so hot in here!" he exclaimed, and with that he crossed his arms over his chest and pulled the jumper at the collar, taking it off, revealing the vivid fuchsia _Team Slater_shirt Betty and Hilda had insisted he should take off.

Betty buried her head in her hands, and Hilda bit her bottom lip, trying to suppress a giggle. Amanda shot Daniel a look and plastered on a smile. "That's a nice shirt," she said, tentatively.

"I know," Justin told her, smiling just as falsely as her. Jumping down the last steps of the flight, he left the room with a huge grin on his face.

"I'm sorry," Betty said, weakly.

"I'm used to it," Daniel stated, shrugging. "Are you ok?" he asked, placing a hand on Amanda's shoulder.

"Yeah," she said, flipping her hair back, trying to look unaffected by the blatant display of disapproval that came from the boy who had once worshipped her and Marc.

_And the trust and self-assurance that lead to happiness  
>They're the very things we kill, I guess<br>Pride and competition cannot fill these empty arms  
>And the work they put between us,<br>You know it doesn't keep us warm_

Wilhelmina knew she would regret this eventually. She should not have let Claire drink _just one glass, because it's Christmas._Especially seen how the glass had quickly turned into three in a row. That was hardly something that could be considered rehab material, but she knew Claire, and she knew_drunk_Claire, and that was not a person she would want at the same table with Sawyer.

Claire was talking quick, sometimes forgetting the words or the subject, resulting in the fact that she would begin the story all over again. Wilhelmina just looked at the woman, a little concerned for her.

Sawyer noticed the rigidity in Wilhelmina's shoulders, and he leaned to the side, to whisper in her ear discretely. "It's ok," he said. Claire was too far gone to notice anything at all, and Marc was nodding enthusiastically at her ramblings.

"It's not" Wilhelmina whispered back.

"Come on, she won't fall off the wagon with just three glasses of wine," he told her, placing his hand over hers.

"Oh, you two are just so cute," Claire said, interrupting whatever she was saying. "You remind me a lot of Daniel and Wilhelmina. Oh!" she added quickly, with a small laugh. "Well, at least one of the two is still here."

Sawyer felt Wilhelmina's hand go rigid under his, and he squeezed it, nodding. "Thank you Mrs Meade."

"You should have seen them," Claire continued, sliding a finger over the rim of the glass. "They couldn't keep their hands off each other. At first, it was kind of disgusting, but with time…it became almost sweet. Well, as sweet as Wilhelmina can be."

Wilhelmina stretched her lips in a forced smile, while inside she wanted to be anywhere but there.

"I'm sure those are really good memories," Sawyer said, nodding.

Wilhelmina looked at the man sitting beside her, and was amazed at the mature attitude he had in all of this. She admired him, for being so much stronger than her, for being the rock she could hold onto. She squeezed his hand in return.

Marc was watching the scene, taking notices of the small changes in every person around the table. Wilhelmina's uneasiness, Sawyer's attempts at being more confident that he really felt, Claire's tipsy joyfulness.

"I propose a toast," he said, breaking the awkward silence. "Why don't we raise our glasses?" Everyone did, ruefully. "Good babies. Now, I propose a toast to Hudson!" he said.

As if on cue Hudson, who had been sitting at Wilhelmina's side for the whole time, lifted his head and yapped. Marc took a piece of meat in between his two fingers and gave it to the dog, who almost ate the man's fingers trying to catch it.

"And I was wondering why he was getting fat," Wilhelmina said, shaking his head.

"It's Christmas for him, too," Sawyer said, circling her shoulders with his arm.

"I would like to make a toast, too," Claire said, raising the empty glass. The three of them turned to look at her, raising their glasses hesitantly. "To forgiveness," she exclaimed, her eyes locked with Wilhelmina's.

Their glasses clinked together.

_I've been trying to live without you now  
>But I miss you, baby<br>The more I know, the less I understand  
>And all the things I thought I figured out, I have to learn again<em>

Betty walked into the small backside patio, where Daniel was standing alone, hands in his pockets. She closed the door slowly, and walked up to him. Feeling her presence beside him, he glanced briefly in her direction, and a smile appeared on his lips.

"Hey," he whispered.

"How are you?" she asked, feebly.

"Hanging on," he said, shrugging. "I'm sorry, I had to get away from Justin for a few minutes."

"I'm so sorry, he's being a total prick," she apologized, fidgeting with her fingers. "I'll talk to him and tell him he's being so impolite."

"Don't worry," he said.

Betty nodded and with a sigh she sat down on the chair leaning against the wall. "Daniel, I know it's hard, but I'm sure once the initial shock is gone you'll see the positive in this. You're going to be a dad! Isn't it what you always wanted?"

Daniel nodded, deep in thought. He turned and came to sit on the chair next to hers. "I'd abandoned that thought when I thought Wilhelmina would be the one I would spend the rest of my life with. And even when the thought would cross my mind…"

"It was Wilhelmina who had your baby," she said, finishing the sentence for him.

He nodded wordlessly.

Betty placed her head on his shoulder and took his hand, squeezing it. "Whatever happens, remember I'm here for you. I'm a good baby-sitter!" she added, smiling.

Daniel smiled back and nodded his head once, before dipping his head low. "I miss her."

Betty sat up straight and titled her head.

"Betty, I have to ask you something."

_I've been tryin' to get down to the Heart of the Matter  
>But my will gets weak<br>And my heart is so shattered  
>But I think it's about forgiveness<br>Forgiveness  
>Even if, even if you don't love me anymore<em>

Around 1am, Claire left the house; Wilhelmina had asked Marc to go with her and be sure she arrived home safe and sound. She had also wanted to have the time alone with Sawyer, who had been uncomfortably silent for the rest of the evening. In fact, entering the kitchen, she saw his back on her, while he placed all the dishes in the sink.

She walked up to him and sneaked her arms around his waist, leaning her forehead against his back. "Leave it," she said. "The cleaning lady will take care of that tomorrow."

"I never let our cleaning lady do something I could do, when I was at my dad's," he said with a monotone.

She pulled back and, pulling at his arm, she forced him to turn around and face her. She looked up and shook her head. "You're a saint," she said. "What happened tonight…how you handled it…I'm sorry for what you had to go through, that was…wrong."

"It's not your fault," he said, with a tired smile. "I don't know what I was thinking when I said you should invite your ex husband's mother."

She brought her hands up to his chest, and played a little with a button on his shirt. "She's not that bad," she said, unbelievable to her own ears despite all the years. "She's a mean drunk."

"No she's not," he said, placing his hands on the small of her back and leaning back against the sink. "She's an honest drunk." He paused, looking into Wilhelmina's eyes for a brief second. Then he looked down at her hands. "I have an offer."

"Does that offer involve us without our clothes on?" she whispered, leaning closer, but he chuckled, not rising to the teasing.

"No," he said. "I mean, eventually. But that's not the first aim. I was thinking…" he paused again, trying to find the right words to tell her what he was thinking and not scare her. "How about we take the New Year's weekend for ourselves? Go somewhere, away from here, away from the Meades, away from everyone."

"And what exactly are you thinking?"

"Texas."

_All the people in your life who've come and gone  
>They let you down, you know they hurt your pride<br>Better put it all behind you; cause life goes on  
>You keep carrin' that anger, it'll eat you up inside<em>

Marc was on his way home when his cell phone rang. Reading Betty's name on the flashing screen, he wondered whether he should answer. He looked down at the screen, and decided to pick up after the fifth ring.

"Marc!" came the excessively happy voice on the other side. "Merry Christmas!"

"Merry Christmas to you, Betty," he said, unable to suppress a small smile.

"Where are you?" she asked, hearing the engine in the background.

"Just helped Claire reach her bedroom without tumbling down the stairs," he said. "I'm going home now."

"Uhm, can you stop by? So that I can give you your Christmas present?" Betty asked, hesitantly.

Marc bit on his bottom lip. He knew Amanda and Daniel would probably be there, since Betty was such a good soul she would never let her friends alone on Christmas Eve.

"I don't think it's such a good idea, Betty," he said.

"You don't need to come in, if you don't want to," she said, hurriedly. "I'll come outside. Just, text me when you're here, and I'll come outside."Hearing the hesitation on the other hand, she insisted. "Come on Marc," she pleaded, her voice softening. "Why do we have to get caught in the middle of this?"

Marc knew he would give in, when he heard the pleading in her voice. He knew she was right, they were all getting in the middle of something that only relatively concerned any of them, but something that deeply affected every relationship he'd taken for granted in the last five years.

His relationship with Betty, for she was clearly helping Amanda and Daniel. His relationship with Daniel himself, whom he'd started to slowly consider a friend. His relationship with Wilhelmina; constantly on edge despite their attempt at pleasing the other and thanking him for his presence.

Finally, his relationship with Amanda. Why had he left, one might ask, and he wouldn't be able to give a satisfactory answer. When he'd heard she was pregnant with Daniel's baby, he'd felt the sudden need to get as far as possible. As much as he would like to say he had done that solely for Wilhelmina, that wasn't the truth. Before Wilhelmina, there were his feelings.

The feelings of a man who thought he knew the girl who he called his best friend, the feelings that had been hurt the day, in spite of what he'd asked her, she'd chosen Daniel.

Because that was what she had done, wasn't it? She had ignored what he had told her, she had pretended he had never said he wouldn't be there had she chosen to pursue Daniel, and that was exactly what she had gone on to do. Marc was perfectly aware pregnancies might not be avoided, when the shit had hit the fan.

But he had hoped she would come looking for him, not for Daniel.

Ten minutes later, he sat in the car, looking out the window at the kitsch decorations in the Suarez front yard. As he lost himself in the lights of the small Santa, he didn't notice the chubby girl walking out the front door and coming down the front steps. Betty crossed the street and reached the car, knocking lightly on the window.

Marc shook himself out of his trance and rolled the window down. The two simply looked at each other, smiling sadly, and Betty handed him a small red envelop, with a golden ribbon bigger than the box itself.

"I didn't get you anything, Betty," he said, looking down at the colorful presents in Betty's hands. "I didn't know you were coming for Christmas."

"It's ok, I wasn't supposed to be here for Christmas," she said, shrugging and thrusting the present in his hands. "You know me, I don't give to receive. I give to make people happy."

Marc snorted. "What kind of alien are you, Betty Suarez?"

"I'm just a good person," Betty exclaimed. "You are too," she added, almost reading what was going on in his head. "We're just very unlucky."

Marc chuckled and tore the red wrapping paper, opening his present. Lifting the top of the small box, he smiled at the sight of a green, polka dots bow-tie. With a laugh, he shook his head. "It's quite hideous," he said.

"I know," Betty agreed, laughing along. "But they're very in, in London."

"I'll keep that in mind, next time I have to come over there," he said, placing the box on the seat next to him and turning to Betty. He sighed and opened his mouth to say something, but something behind Betty caught his attention.

Amanda was standing on the threshold, looking at the two of them, with the most painful expression he'd ever seen on those beautiful, sweet features. His heart broke, because he wanted, with all his heart, get out of the car and run to her, tell her he wasn't mad at her.

Instead, he returned his eyes on Betty. "I gotta go."

"Wait, I have one more thing," she said, reaching into the pocket of her winter coat. She was holding something in her right hand and when she opened it for Marc to see it, he shook his head at the small, velvet blue box.

"No," he said, and began to roll the window up. Betty reached for the handle of the door and opened it. "Betty, I said no."

"Why?"

"I'm not going to bring her a present from _him_," Marc said, his eyes fixed on the small box. "I'm not going to help him hurt her from a distance. She's trying to forget him, Betty, I can't keep reminding her of him. Do you have any idea what a gift from Daniel would do to her, right now? She would be heartbroken."

Betty looked down at the box, seeing the reason in Marc's words. Unable to resist, she opened the small box with a little click, and sighed at the sight of a beautiful ring, with a single red stone in the middle, shining in the light on the streetlamp.

"Betty, I can't bring her a ring," Marc said, shaking his head. "It's a ring. I…I just can't. Maybe, if it had been anything else…but not a ring. I owe it to her. And to Sawyer, too. They're both trying so hard to build something on the ruins of this mess, I can't stroll in that apartment and just put this ring in between them."

Betty nodded, knowing Daniel's request was impossible to fulfill.

"He's taking her to Texas," Marc said, out of nowhere. "She sent me a text, he asked her tonight. He's taking her to Texas, and she's going. That's…"

"That's heavy," Betty said, closing the box and putting it back in her pocket. "You think I should tell Daniel?"

"I don't know," Marc said, stealing a glance at the spot where Amanda had been, now empty. "Maybe if he sees they're moving on, he will understand he needs to move on too. I don't want him to fool Amanda around. She doesn't deserve that."

Betty shrugged, realizing in that moment she and Marc were the only one whose brains were clear enough to function and think things through carefully.

"You're right," she whispered. "I will tell him. And…" she paused, looking for the right words. "Is there anything you want me to tell her?"

Marc knew she was talking about Amanda.

"Just…" he smiled at his own thoughts. "Tell her Jake is a good name, if it's a boy. You know, like Jake Gyllenhaal."

Betty smiled. "Anything else?"

Before he could stop himself, his heart spoke, not giving his pride any chance to suppress his wants.

"Tell her to call me," he whispered. "I…I would like to talk to her, sometimes."

_I wanna be happily ever after  
>And my heart is so shattered<em>

Daniel was pacing nervously on the patio. When Betty had received Marc's text, she'd left him on his own, out there, and had left with the ring he'd given her. He knew he shouldn't have asked her, and he knew he shouldn't have bought that ring for Wilhelmina.

He was with someone else, even if in the most unconventional of ways, and she was with someone else too. She was trying to live her life and live it without him, constantly bringing back painful memories. Yet, that evening, walking down Fifth Avenue, he had stopped at Tiffany's and had stared and the beautiful red stone in the window.

He couldn't tell why, but he had thought of her. The fierceness of the stone seemed to be perfect with the woman he wanted to give it to, and his feet had unconsciously taken him inside the shop. Before he knew, he was walking away, $5,000 less in the wallet and a small velvet box in his pocket. A velvet box that he was about to give to the ex wife he had cheated on with the woman who was now carrying his child.

Just how contorted was his life? How more complicated could things get? Wasn't there someone who said that once you reach the bottom, there's nothing else to do but go back up? Then why didn't he seem to find a way to go back on the surface? Why couldn't he just find the air he needed, and breathe again?

Lost in thoughts, he didn't notice Betty walking back onto the patio, studying him with a worried expression on her face. She braced herself, feeling the little box in her pocket, and asking herself how she would ever find the courage to tell him that not only Wilhelmina would not receive his ring, that Christmas, but also that she was flying to Texas.

"Daniel," she whispered, and the man's face lit up.

"Did you give it to him?" he asked, with a smile that fell as soon as Betty hesitantly shook her head. He looked down and fell back on the chair against the wall.

"There's something I have to tell you," she said, scratching the back of her head. She sat down next to him, and reached out for his hand, taking it in hers. He lifted his gaze to meet the girl's eyes and the sadness she could read into them made her question her own ability to give him more bad news. But for his own sake, to be sure he could really put the past behind him, she needed to tell him. "She's going to Texas, for New Year's eve. She's meeting his family."

Daniel frowned. "It's been only a little more than a month," he said to himself, rather than to Betty. "It's been just…a month. How can she go that fast? How can she pretend she doesn't think of me? I think about her every second of the day," he concluded, shaking his head.

Just on the other side of the door, standing with her back against the wall, Amanda was listening. She closed her eyes when she heard the low sob and suddenly she didn't know how they'd got there, in a situation in which no one was happy and everyone was pretending.

_But I know it's about forgiveness  
>Forgiveness<br>Even if, even if you don't love me anymore_

Six days later, on New Year's Eve, Wilhelmina stood on the doorstep of a big, old fashioned mansion in the deep South, holding Sawyer's hand. She was thinking on how she'd gotten this far, in little more than a month, how she'd gotten to stand on the threshold to the house of her new _boyfriend_when only a few weeks before she'd been sitting near the fireplace with Daniel.

"Are you sure you're ok?" Sawyer asked, looking down on her.

Wilhelmina simply looked ahead. "I'm black, I don't go pale."

"I meant-"

"I know what you meant, and I'm ok," she said, too quickly to sound convincing. "I'm perfectly fine." She stopped, tapping the foot on the floor nervously. "Are you sure this dress doesn't make me look older? You're younger than me already, I don't need a dress that says I'm seventy years old."

"I'm not that young," Sawyer said, rolling his eyes. "I'm only six years younger than you."

"How do you know that?" she asked, narrowing his eyes. "Did you sneak a peek at my CIA file? Did you call FBI? No one knows my real age, not even my mother."

Sawyer pouted. "I looked at your ID."

Wilhelmina retrieved his hand, slipping it out of his grip, and folded her arms against her chest. "I need to burn that ID. I always forget that."

The door opened up wide, and a joyful man walked up to them, his arms wide open. Wilhelmina took a step back, to avoid the hug, while Sawyer wasn't fast enough and was enveloped in his father's tight hug.

"We were all waiting for you!" he exclaimed, patting Sawyer's back. He reached for Wilhelmina's hand, who lifted it with a little skepticism and grimaced when the old man bent over in a great gesture, kissing it. He held the door open for them, and Wilhelmina immediately felt the stares of the hundreds of people crowding the saloon on her.

It reminded her of the big parties her mother would throw when she was a child, how everyone would stare at her, pinching her cheeks, telling her she would grow up to be a beautiful lady. Only, this time, she couldn't feel the flattery and the coaxing. This time, she could only feel the curiosity and the scrutiny of every person in the room.

"Sawyer, be a good host and remember to introduce your lady to your mother," came Sawyer's father's voice from behind them. "If you'll excuse me, I was in the middle of a very important discussion on next year's predictions for the market."

Wilhelmina lifted an eyebrow as the man walked away, leaving the two of them alone.

"I feel like I've been thrown in a bad western movie, and nobody told me," she deadpanned, snatching a glass from a waiter passing by. Sawyer did the same and, with his hand on the small of her back, he led her across the room. "Do I have to meet your mother?" she asked, whining. "I met your father already, isn't it enough?" she asked, hopeful.

Sawyer chuckled and kept leading her amongst the crowd when a young woman stepped in front of them, blocking their way. She had long brown hair, let down in loose curls. The sneer on the woman's face told Wilhelmina she wouldn't like the outcome of the conversation.

"Hi," the stranger said, looking straight into Wilhelmina's eyes. "You're Wilhelmina Slater."

With a sigh, she put on a fake smile. "I know I am."

"I love your dress," the woman insisted, looking Wilhelmina up and down. "My mother has the same outfit!"

Wilhelmina smirked. "Then she must've found it at a flea market, because this was designed solely for me by Alexander McQueen just a month before his unfortunate passing," she said, eyes wide in fake stupor. She leaned in and, with a nod to the woman's dress, she added: "It's ok, I'm not going to tell anyone it's a fake Chanel."

The woman who had been so confident in the beginning, shot Sawyer a glance and then stormed off, grabbing a girl by the elbow on her way and dragging her away with her.

Wilhelmina turned to Sawyer, hand on her hip, and narrowed her eyes. "Who was that skank?"

"Serena," he said, shaking his head. "Ex girlfriend. Sorry about that. I would've said something, but you handled it pretty well on your own."

Passing a hand on her eyes, she took a deep breath. "Look, before you introduce me to the whole family, why don't we go outside? I need some fresh air."

The man nodded and taking her hand in his, he accompanied her to the big balcony. They stepped outside, and walked up to the marble railing, leaning back against it. They both looked their feet, feeling the uneasiness.

"Maybe I shouldn't have brought you here," he said, shaking his head. "It's too early, isn't it? Am I freaking you out? I mean, the whole getting to know my family…I swear that was not the point. I just wanted us to get away from New York, go somewhere, where the Meades couldn't reach us. Somewhere, just you and me."

She kept looking down, staring at her Manolos, her fingers drumming against the marble surface behind her.

"Say something," he insisted.

Wilhelmina lifted her eyes to meet his, pushed herself off the railing and moved to stand before him. "I'm Wilhelmina Slater."

Sawyer tilted his head. "Nice to meet you?"

"No, what I meant is… I'm Wilhelmina Slater. I think nobody is worth so much as a glance from me. I believe I'm better than every single person on Earth. I wake up in the morning and I thank God for making me smarter and better than all those simpletons in the street. I wear Chanel, Marc Jacobs, Versace because I enjoy the looks on people's faces when they mentally make a count of how many dollars I'm wearing and I rejoice when they realize I'm wearing more than their annual wage."

Sawyer whistled and sighed. "And you're telling me this because…?"

"Because I'm not the person you think I am," she explained. "I'm not this weak, moody, needy woman who clings to a man to float. I'm strong, I'm stubborn, I'm insufferable most of the time. I can reduce a man on the verge of tears with only three words."

"I don't get where you're going," Sawyer stated, snorting.

"What I'm trying to tell you is…I will not always be this person," she concluded, her voice barely audible now. "Be careful."

Sawyer bit his bottom lip, looking her up and down, before reaching for her and pulling her to him, holding her against his chest. She looked up into his eyes, trying to decipher what he was thinking.

"I might fall in love with you, Wilhelmina Slater," he said, running his hands up and down her back. "Whoever you are; you might be strong and stubborn, but I promise I'm stronger, and more stubborn than you think. I can hold my own. I don't know what kind of men you've had in your life, but I'm not going to run away scared just because you are a powerful woman. I don't care how powerful you are, out there. I know you-" he placed his hand on her chest, upon her heart, "…here. I know what is inside you. I know what you keep hidden behind all that false pretending. I'm ready to meet whatever person you think you are, but I'm telling you: I will not leave you."

Wilhelmina felt a surge of gratitude and fear for the man that was holding her. Gratitude, because he was ready to go with whatever he would find to deal with. Fear, because she would not always be this person. Sooner or later, she knew, things would go back to normal, and she would have to retire behind that cold wall that shielded her from the pain coming from the outside.

She wondered, as the fireworks behind the lit up the sky and people toasted to the New Year just started, if Sawyer would care enough to break through that wall.

_I've been tryin' to get down to the Heart of the Matter  
>Because the flesh will get weak<br>And the ashes will scatter  
>So I'm thinkin' about forgiveness<br>Forgiveness  
>Even if you don't love me anymore<em>


	20. Always The Last To Know

**Always the Last to Know**

"Albert Sawyer Reinhardt the third, you get over here now." A cheerful but stern voice admonished in the background.

"Your real name is Albert?" Wilhelmina quirked a brow at him, smirking, still in his arms on the terrace.

Sawyer rolled his eyes and blushed a little. "Yeah...but everyone calls me Sawyer." He said and gave her a small peck on the nose before relinquishing his arms from around her. In three great strides he had crossed the distance to the other woman and engulfed her in a tight hug, kissing her cheek warmly.

Wilhelmina watched as he pulled away from the older woman and she cupped his face, smiling broadly. Sawyer looped his arm around her shoulders and walked her over to where Wilhelmina stood. "Wilhelmina Slater, meet Virginia Reinhardt, my mother." He grinned and turned his head and then nodded to Willie. "Ma...this is her."

Wilhelmina didn't like the way he'd just referred to her, as if the pair had had many conversations about her, but she hid it well and extended her hand to her boyfriend's mother. Virginia Reinhardt took the proffered hand and shook it cordially, smiling congenially at her son's new partner. Wilhelmina returned the smile but both could read the underlying look in the other's eyes; they were sizing each other up.

"A pleasure." Virginia drawled.

"Likewise." Wilhelmina trilled.

Sawyer rolled his eyes. "You think I don't know what you two are doin', circlin' your prey?" He chuckled and put an arm around them both. "Look, you two will get along just fine. Ma, she ain't tryin' to steal away your baby boy. Willie, my mother is not clinging on to any apron strings. She knows I'm stubborn as a mule." He grinned. "Now if you'll both excuse me I have four older sisters I need to go and torment." He placed a kiss to each of their temples and left them alone on the terrace.

As both women watched him leave, they sighed and then turned to face each other. "Drink?" Virginia offered.

"Dear God yes."

Sawyer's mother emitted a tinkling laugh and linked arms with her, leading her into the house.

_So you're in love with someone else,_

_Someone who burns within your soul_

_And it looks like I am the last to know_

It was her birthstone.

_By her who is in January born, no gem save garnets should be worn._

He could remember the old rhyme his mother had recited when he was a child. In a different world he would have kept it to give it to her on her birthday, which was less than two weeks away, but somehow he didn't think that was a great idea. He chuckled mirthlessly to himself as he recalled that it was unusual for him to remember her birthday at all; he was hopeless at remembering them at the best of times but the fact that she never acknowledged it made it even more difficult. Just because she didn't acknowledge it, however, didn't mean she didn't want her husband to ignore it and he had been in trouble for just that more than once over the years.

He knew she would have loved it, the garnet shone brightly in the centre of the ring and he could almost picture her face when she would have opened it, under different circumstances. When he had gone inside the boutique he was instantly drawn to the ring. Having a mother with a passion for fine jewellery, he knew garnets came in almost every colour but it was rare to find one as vivid red as the one in his hand; in his naivety he had taken it as a sign he was meant to buy it for her. He wanted her to have it, but he knew it had been foolish to expect Marc to take it to her.

He snapped the box shut and stowed it safely in his pocket when he heard a door open behind him, he watched as Amanda emerged from the bedroom, what she soon hoped would be _their_bedroom. He didn't know if he would ever get there, if she weren't carrying his baby he knew he would have his wife back in his arms and Amanda would be nothing more than a lost friendship after their night of ill advised solace.

She sat down beside him on the couch and stared forward, twisting her hands in her lap. "You can go." She whispered.

Daniel's head snapped round. "What?"

She still wouldn't look at him, not trusting herself to stay composed under his stare. "I don't want to force you to be here...I don't want this kid to grow up and see you resenting me for making you stay. You can be a dad and I can be a mom, but we don't have to do it together."

"But I thought..."

"I don't want to be accused of trapping you." She cut him off. "And if you're gonna go, you better go now, it's almost midnight and I don't want to bring a new year in with you if it's not gonna end that way."

Daniel ran a hand down his face and sighed. "Look..." He brought his hand down next to hers, stopping momentarily before he covered it. "This...this isn't going to happen overnight, it's a process, but I'm trying. I'm gonna be here...we've been good together before and we owe it to this baby to see if we can be good together again."

Amanda smiled weakly and in the background she could hear the noises coming from the television as the ball began to drop on Times Square.

_10...9...8...7..._

"You mean it?" She asked hopefully.

_...6...5...4..._

He nodded, trying to force himself to believe the conviction behind the gesture. "I mean it."

_...3...2...1_

Daniel squeezed her hand and hesitantly leaned his head in to hers, with somewhat of a relieved look on her face Amanda closed the distance and brushed her lips against his softly. Daniel kept the kiss light, not wanting to give her the wrong idea, it was still going to take some time. He didn't know when he would stop seeing Willie's face when he kissed her. He pulled back and tried to return her smile.

"Happy New Year Amanda."

"Happy New Year Daniel."

She was still smiling at him and he was finding it hard to return it as he recalled how he had spent his last New Year. Exactly 365 days ago, he was in bed with his wife, loving her while the rest of the world celebrated. The ringing of the telephone broke Amanda's attention which had been solely focussed on Daniel, trying to see herself in his eyes but she was still only able to see one person in that sullen expression.

Amanda walked behind him to answer the phone. "Hello?" There was silence in the apartment for a couple of seconds while she waited for the caller to speak. Daniel spun round in worry when he heard a distinct sob coming from her. His face softened into a smile when he saw her bite her lip and reply softly to the person on the other end.

"Happy New Year Marc."

_I hear you never felt so alive_

_So much desire beyond control_

_And as usual I am the last to know_

They had been there for almost five hours and it occurred to Sawyer in a startling realisation that he hadn't seen his girlfriend since he had left her with his mother on the balcony, shortly after they arrived. He had been so caught up in re-acquainting with his sisters, brothers-in-law, nieces, nephews and childhood friends that time had simply got away from him.

It was a little before midnight and he went in search of her; desperate to find her before the clock struck the hour, not wanting to begin the New Year on an argument because he ditched her. As he drew closer to the small drawing room which his mother used as her personal retreat, he heard laughter coming from inside the walls. It was strange, his mother was never one to miss any sort of family gathering.

Peering his head around the corner he saw his mother sitting opposite Wilhelmina the two of them sharing a laugh over something he couldn't hear. From the depleted decanter on the small drinks trolley between them, he surmised they had both had a healthy amount to drink. He leaned against the frame, hidden by the door and listened to his two favourite woman discuss him.

"You know, when Albert told me just who Sawyer was seeing...I admit I was unsure what to make of it."

"And now?" Willie challenged, a smile on her lips, she actually liked this woman. She liked how no-one in this family seemed to hide behind bullshit and lies.

Virginia took a drink from her glass and held it to her chest; pursing her lips at the woman opposite her, amused. "Well...I can see why he likes you. You're beautiful, articulate, graceful...and clearly not after him for his money like that gold-digger Serena was."

"Ah yes, I had the pleasure, she was a treat." Willie laughed around the edge of the glass.

"But...I admit, and this is not a slight at my son, I love him dearly, I can't quite see why _you_ seem to like _him_. I've followed you Wilhelmina Slater, seen your life in print for years and my son does not seem to be your usual type...unless we count your brief altercation with Ted LeBeau, did you know we know the LeBeaus?"

Willie chuckled, shaking her head. "No...but I can't say I'm surprised, all the men in my life seem to be linked in one way or another."

Virginia skirted around the admission and continued to press her about her son. "Wilhelmina, please, tell me, why are you with my son?"

The glass in her hand had never seemed so interesting, as she turned it in her hand, noting how the crystal caught the light. She cleared her throat. "He has a good heart." She started softly. "I'm not going to lie to you...or to him, I'm not completely over my marriage, how could I be? But, when I'm with Sawyer...I forget, he makes me _different_ somehow. He came into my life at the darkest time and reminded me that there can be light again."

Virginia smiled as she saw Wilhelmina's eyes glaze over and an involuntary smile creep on her face as she thought of Sawyer. "I know that it sounds like I'm using him to block out Daniel, that it sounds selfish...but that's not how I mean it. I'm not explaining myself very well am I?"

Still hidden in the doorway, Sawyer smiled at the words she spoke for him. He heard his mothers laugh again. "No...but I think I know what you're at least trying to say. Do you love him?"

Sawyer closed his eyes and internally chastised his mother, he knew it was too soon for that type of question. He tried to move away from the door, not wanting to hear her answer. It was one thing to know that she didn't love him yet, but to hear it from her own lips when he's own feelings for her were reaching that point, would be too much to bear. Still, he couldn't make his feet move. He strained to hear in the silence of the room when suddenly Wilhelmina's voice rang out clear and strong.

"That's not a fair question, it's too fast for that and I think you know it. I think you'd be more inclined to tell me I was a fool on the rebound if I burst into proclamations of love for a man I barely know. I care for him deeply though, and think that yes...given time...I could."

"You're a smart woman Wilhelmina Slater." Virginia praised her.

"I know." She smiled at her and the older woman laughed. "Now I think it's about time I go find the man in question...he's gonna regret ditching me for five hours." She joked.

Upon hearing this, Sawyer darted from the door and stood halfway up the hall so he could appear to just be walking to her when she came out the room.

Inside, Willie was straightening her outfit and moved to open the door. "He doesn't want kids." His mother suddenly burst out.

Wilhelmina stopped and turned, regarding the other woman with understanding in her eyes. "I mean...of course I'd like him to, but it's not like I don't have a whole bunch already from my four daughters. Sawyer has always had this strange relationship with animals, says they're easier to read than people. For a long enough time I didn't even think he would find anyone special...that he's found you...I'm grateful, but as for raising a family; he doesn't want to...just thought you should know." She smiled at her.

Wilhelmina smiled back softly in gratitude, she knew exactly why she was telling her this; knew she must know of the predicament with Daniel and wanted to allay her fears that the same problem would arise down the line with Sawyer. "Thank you."

She left the room and made her way up the hall to go back into the large room where the party was being held. As she walked, she saw Sawyer come out an alcove some-ways up the hall and walk towards her; his head dipped and smiling, hands stuffed in pockets. She smirked at him, "So how long were you listening outside for?"

"Why Miss Slater I don't know what you mean." He cajoled, pulling her hands against his heart and kissing her lightly.

"Uh-huh, of course not. Come on, I suppose we better go in there before we miss the New Year...did I mention I hate New Year?"

He chuckled. "No you didn't...but I'm not surprised."

She pulled on his hand, to pull him into the room but he stood his ground and held tight, pulling her back to him and kissing her hard on the mouth. "Nope." He told her when he broke apart. "There's only one person I want see the 1st of January in with." He smiled down at her.

"But your family..."

"Are all drunk or wrapped up with their own little groups. This is the start of a brand new year Willie and I plan to start it as I mean to go on...just us." She smiled and let herself be pulled by the hand and led upstairs.

Just them.

_The last to know how you're feeling_

_The last to know where you are_

_The last to know, if you're happy now_

They had only planned to stay until January 2nd, but Wilhelmina had found herself more relaxed in the company of the Reinhardt's than she had felt in a long time and consented to stay longer. Now on the fifth of January she pushed open her apartment door and watched Sawyer struggle in with both their sets of bags.

"I can't decide if you're letting me do all the work because you're lazy or because you want to see me looking all manly." He laughed, struggling with the bags.

She walked to him and lifted the smallest bag from under his arm. "Better?" She smiled and kissed him quickly then set of down the hall in search of her two puppies.

"Marc? Hudson?" She called out as she walked through her home, stopping at the door of the lounge, she found Marc on her couch; laptop on his knee and Hudson trying to clamber over the keys. Marc had headphones in his ears and didn't hear her approach, he jumped in fright when she pulled one out of his ear.

"Oh you're home!" He smiled at her. "How was Texas? How's Sawyer's family? Are there anymore that look like him? Any of them gay or toying with the idea?"

"Fine, fine, no and yes...but you really don't want to see those ones." She smiled at him, the corners of her mouth reaching her cheekbones and her eyes shining.

Marc tilted his head. "Someone's in a good mood."

She sighed exaggeratedly, "I am...this week has been..." She tried to think of the word, but couldn't so just shook her head, still smiling. Walking to the couch, she reached out a hand to the puppy who was definitely plumper than he had been when she had left last week. Before her hand could touch the fur, the small dog got up from his position and trotted over the couch to sit next to Marc. If Wilhelmina didn't know better she could swear she saw the canine turn his head in indignation.

"What's wrong with him?"

Marc ruffled the fuzzy hair on Hudson's head. "He's sulking because you went away for a whole week."

She rolled her eyes and walked to the dresser in the far corner of the room. Opening a drawer, she took out a silk tie of Daniels which she had taken from the dog previously and threw it on the couch. Immediately the dog bounded over and began chewing at it. "There, he loves me again." She smirked when Hudson allowed her to pat him.

Marc sat and watched her, he hadn't seen her so happy in months, even throughout the last few months of her marriage. It made him not want to tell her what he had to say. "Willie?"

"Mmm Hmm?" She answered, distracted as she continued to stroke the puppy and replay the past week over in her head.

She had felt at total peace when she had been with Sawyer these past seven days. She couldn't say she had never thought of Daniel, but when she had the pain seemed duller than it was before. The man she was with was slowly healing her; putting her back together. After winning both his father and mother over easily, she had found Sawyer's sisters were as amiable to her as his parents had been. With the exception of one, who happened to be a very good friend of one Mrs LeBeau. That sister had even invited her _dear_ friend and her husband to dinner one night, expecting to create friction and tension between her and Sawyer.

Of course, she was forgetting that Sawyer had spent time with her and Daniel in the same room; after that, dealing with an old, short-term boyfriend from years ago was practically like a holiday camp compared to the tension he had been witness to previously. By the end of that evening, even that sister had to admit that she and Sawyer seemed suited; an unlikely couple, yes, but it fit.

The best thing was, she hadn't had to try, there had been no false pleasantries, no fake smiles and insincere conversations. They took her as they found her and didn't expect her to make any apologies for who she was. Between this and the constant adulation she had received from Sawyer, she had felt more relaxed than she had done for as long as she could remember.

She started tuning into Marc's voice, shaking her head to bring her back into the room, to hear what he was saying. "I'm sorry...what were you saying?"

Marc smiled, knowing she had been lost in thoughts of the new man in her life who had showed her she could be happy once more. He hated to ruin her good mood, but knew how hurt she had been when he kept secrets from her before. "This weekend...I'm going to Amanda's place to talk. I called her and...Willie I'm sorry, I know what she did, I know, I do...but she's my friend." He wrinkled his brow, trying to get her to understand.

Wilhelmina took slow deliberate steps towards him until she was right before him, he swallowed his nerves as she drew nearer. She brought her hand up to hold his chin and make him look at her. She smiled brightly, taking him by surprise. "Okay."

"Okay?"

She shrugged. "Marc, I don't expect you to turn your back on your friend, you weren't the person that she wronged. Now I'm not saying I'm going to be throwing her a baby shower...but I've come to realise how important friendships are..." Sawyer came into the room to join them at this point and Wilhelmina looked at him thoughtfully. "...and second chances."

Sawyer returned her smile and walked to where she stood just feet from Marc, he ran his hands up and down her forearms. Marc rolled his eyes. "You know if you two weren't so attractive all these PDA's would be gag-worthy."

"Just be thankful you weren't in the pool house at my parents last night." Sawyer chided and Willie slapped his chest, blushing at the inside joke.

"Are you a shorts or Speedos man? Say Speedos, if there truly is a God you will say Speedos." Marc eyes wandered wistfully over Sawyer.

"If you're quite finished imagining what my boyfriend looks like naked, I'm going to unpack."

"Oh I'll never be finished imagining that." She heard Marc drawl as she walked away and rolled her eyes, amused, when she heard him continue, following Sawyer to the kitchen. "Had you been _in_the pool? Was there a tanning oil situation?"

She opened the door to her room and found everything as she had left it. Sawyer had left the bags on the bed. Unzipping the first one, she started removing her shoes and placed them in the large rack in her closet. As she walked back to the luggage on the bed she caught sight of her reflection in the mirror.

Gone were the shadows around her eyes; gone was the pained expression she had become accustomed to seeing on her face. She looked happier, healthier and younger than she had in a long time. The pain was still there but it wasn't as raw, Sawyer had seen to that.

As much as she had to admit that being with him was proving a tonic for her both physically and mentally, she also had to admit that since the plane had landed at JFK only hours ago; she felt the weight creep back on her chest. It was as if the closer she came to Daniel, the harder it was to ignore his voice in her head.

That had been exactly what she was doing, ignoring all thought of him. She had come to think of her mind as a series of rooms, each one holding its own thoughts, its own memories; she had simply locked the door on the one which held Daniel. When in Texas with Sawyer and his family it had been easy, she could pretend she wasn't a second time divorcee with a heart in desperate need of repair. Back home, even with Sawyer near her, it was proving harder and she had only been home a couple of hours and hadn't even seen Daniel or even heard his name.

She turned her stare onto the bags on the bed, hand on hips. Striding to it, she threw open one of the bags and lifted out a neatly folded pile of Sawyers clothes. She walked to her closet and placed them on the shelves which had been empty since Daniel had left.

She would just have to keep him closer.

_Or if he's treating you, like I treated you_

_Or if he's cruel, I'll be the last to know_

"So I have to leave?" Daniel asked Amanda, understanding about it but still unhappy that everywhere he went people seemed to be telling him to leave for one reason or another.

"Only for a couple of hours. Marc and I really need to talk this out and you know how he feels about you right now."

Daniel placed his hands on his hips, his weight bearing on his right leg in a stance so reminiscent of his ex-wife it would have made Amanda laugh under different circumstances. "He does realise that he will need to get used to me being around doesn't he?"

Amanda smiled inwardly at Daniel's confirmation of staying with her and their child. "He does." She nodded.

"You know I'm getting pretty tired of Marc's attitude towards me, I get it, but there's a limit."

"You slept with one of his best friends while you were married to the other."

Daniel head snapped up to hers, angrily. "And you're his best friend who slept with his other friend's husband!"

"Can we not play the blame game Daniel? We're all at fault here; you, me...Wilhe-"

"Stop right there."

Amanda sighed loudly. "Look...I'm just saying that yes, what we did was wrong, so wrong, but you never would have cheated if there hadn't been something lacking. You said all day, that day, how much she had been riding you, how unappreciated you felt. Wilhelmina is all about the power plays...you forget I know her too."

Daniel shook his head. "No you don't." He told her, incredulously. "All you people who float in and out of her life, in and out of Mode, you think you know her but you don't." His voice started increasing in pitch and speed, "Did you know that she loves Black and White movies? Did you know she hates strawberries but loves anything strawberry flavoured? Did you know that thanks to growing up with a pyro sister she's terrified of fire? Did you know that whenever I was away for work she slept in my Knicks jersey just to feel close to me?"

A silence fell between them, Daniel breathing heavily and Amanda staring, wide eyed, regretting her outburst. "No." She said meekly.

"And did you know..." He took a breath and looked away momentarily before forcing his eyes back. "Did you know her biggest fear, her biggest fear in the whole fucking world was that she would finally let her guard down and let someone in...and that he would hurt her." He laughed mirthlessly to himself. "All the things I promised I would make come true for her...and I choose her biggest fear."

"Daniel I'm sorry."

"Don't." He shook his head. "Just don't, maybe it's good I can't be here tonight, give me time to cool down. I don't want to fight with you, it...it can't be good for the baby." He looked at her as she unconsciously rubbed her stomach. "Just put this behind us...but don't ever say you know my wife again."

Amanda opened her mouth to say 'ex', but thought better of it when she saw the look on Daniels face. Daniel took his coat from the back of the chair and started to walk out of the apartment. When he reached Amanda, she grabbed his arm, stopping him. She didn't want to part like this, not after what he had told her at New Year, she didn't want him to regret his choice. She moved her head in to kiss him lightly before he left but he turned his head before she could make contact. She smiled sadly and settled for placing a kiss to his cheek before he walked free from her.

Just as he opened the door to leave he was greeted by the sight of Marc St James, the other mans head shot up when the door opened and it was clear to Daniel that he had been standing there for several minutes; either to work up the courage to knock, or to listen into the argument he just had with Amanda, maybe both.

Daniel looked back over his shoulder at Amanda and then at Marc; it suddenly became pertinent for him to get out of there. "I'll be back in by eleven." He told Amanda but still looked at Marc, on his way past he 'accidentally' bumped Marc's shoulder with his own. His anger towards the man was unfair and irrational but he had so much of it building within him he didn't know how to vent it. He couldn't be angry with Wilhelmina; she, for once, was trying to do the right thing by starting afresh. He couldn't be angry with Amanda; even in this state he wasn't callus enough to take it out on a pregnant woman. He could be angry at Sawyer, sure, but he had a feeling that the man could take him down in less than a second and causing trouble with her new beau would certainly not endear Daniel to Wilhelmina.

His mind felt tired, running amok between his lost chance with Wilhelmina, still trying to search for a way to make it right, and the knowledge that every day was a day she spent growing closer to another and also a day closer to him becoming a father to a child he couldn't truly say he wanted; it was starting to take its toll on him. He was moody, sullen, irritable, and he looked like hell. His work was suffering, his friendships were next to non-existent and he felt as if he was floating from one disaster to the next.

As he walked down the corridor to the narrow staircase leading to the lobby he found he had to fight down a surge of anger when he heard Marc shout after him, sarcastically. "Aren't you staying, was it something I said?" Biting the inside of his cheek, he was proud of himself when he stomped down the stairs instead of retaliating.

Marc watched Daniel's back until he was out of sight, he wasn't proud of it but he enjoyed seeing his pain. As far as Marc was concerned Daniel had got off lightly. Pushing all thought of the treacherous man aside, he turned to the woman standing just beyond the open doorway and gave a tentative smile. "Can I come in?"

"Of course." She nodded. "It's still your apartment too after all." She returned his weak smile and gestured for him to come in.

Marc stepped in and closed the door. "No…it's yours and Daniel's now." He tried to keep the bitterness from his voice, but Amanda knew him so well she could pick up on the smallest trace of it.

"Actually…" She took a deep breath before continuing, knowing he would find out sooner or later. "Now that Daniel has the money from the settlement back we're going to get a bigger place before the baby comes."

"How thrilling for the three of you…can Willie and I expect an invitation to the housewarming?"

"Marc." She pleaded with him.

He put a hand up and bowed his head, admitting his faux-pas. "You're right, I'm sorry. This isn't about them, this is about us."

Amanda nodded and took a seat, Marc did the same and looked in those baby blue eyes and found himself smiling; if he concentrated hard enough he could pretend that it was the two of them again, back before this all happened, sitting in the apartment bitching over some trifling model Amanda had styled that day. He couldn't pretend forever though, in a few months there would be a pretty permanent reminder of what had come to pass recently.

As Marc smiled softly at her, he expected her to return it, instead he saw her eyes slowly fill with tears. "Do you hate me?" She whispered.

That was all it took; all it took for the anger and the bitterness to fade away and for him to see her as she truly was. His friend. His friend who was sitting before him, terrified, hurting and needing him. He had let his loyalty to Wilhelmina erase the fact that there was someone else who needed him too. If this had happened with any other man than Daniel, he would have stood by her side devoutly.

"Oh Mandy…" He reached across the table and grabbed her hand, the contact making Amanda's tears fall freely. "I don't hate you…I love you…I just can't face being stuck in the middle forever. Willie is important to me, always will be, but so are you and she accepts that…can you accept that she'll be part of mine too?"

Amanda nodded through her tears. "I never asked you to make a choice Marc, I would never do that, you decided on your own that it needed done."

Marc looked down, ashamed and tired of the whole situation. "Can we not go through all this…I don't have the energy. Can we just…can we just start over?"

Amanda nodded and Marc moved swiftly to pull her into a hug, her head buried into his shoulder and he stroked her hair. "I'm here…I'm not going anywhere again, you just need to give me time to accept Daniel…if I ever can at all."

She pulled back. "I'm scared Marc."

His face crumbled in sadness for his best friend. "You'll be a great mother."

"He doesn't love me." Her voice was barely a whimper.

Marc couldn't give her the reassurances she so obviously wanted. He knew Daniel was still, and would probably always be, in love with Wilhelmina. "He's here isn't he?" Was all he could offer.

"I suppose." She sniffed. "Marc…what if I'm like her…what if I'm like my own mother?" She shifted the conversation back to her fears for raising her child, rather than examine the fragile relationship she was building with the father.

Marc smiled at her. "Mandy, you could never be like her. Anyway…she wasn't all bad, she gave you up because she wanted you to have a stable life. She kept you close at Mode, she wouldn't have done that if she didn't love you, I know it's tragic that she died before you found out the truth but-"

Marc was cut short by Amanda's burst of derisive laughter. "What?" He asked.

Amanda grabbed his hands in hers and fixed her eyes to his. "There was another reason I asked you to come tonight…I need someone else to know…I need to know I'm not mad…I don't want anymore secrets between us…I don't want to risk losing you." She rambled quickly. "She's been calling for days, ever since she found out about the baby…I told her to come."

Marc shook his head, confused. "Who…what…who are you talking about?"

Pulling him in closer, so he could see the sincerity in her eyes, she inhaled deeply. "She's alive Marc…Fey's alive."

_We spent summers out beyond the bay_

_And you said these are such perfect days_

_That if the bomb drops baby, I wanna be the last to know_

"This is sick Mandy, this is really sick." Marc paced the room, thirty minutes later, no closer to believing her than he was when she first told him. He stopped in front of her, and knelt before her chair, taking her hands. "I'm worried about you…this…you're delu-" he stopped himself, opting for a different choice of words. "I don't think you're well. First Daniel…now Fey, I think you've been so lonely you're inventing ways to get the people you lost back to you, and I blame myself, I should have been here."

Amanda snatched her hand away. "I'm not crazy Marc! She's alive, she came to me weeks ago! She's on her way here now! She told my why she had me adopted, why she disappeared and why she came back!"

Marc nodded, going along with her delusion for now. "And why did she come back."

Amanda's temper quickly subsided as she remembered the reason for her mother's reappearance. "She…she wanted to keep me away from Daniel, said it would bring me nothing but pain, that he would never let go of his marriage."

Marc felt deep pain for his friend, she was clearly not in her right mind and her subconscious had thought up this scenario to help her confront her own fears about what lay in store for her and Daniel. "Sweetie…" He began, but was cut off by a knock at the door.

His head spun round in the direction of the sound, Amanda's hands slipped out of his hold and he turned to face her. "I told you." She breathed.

Marc felt his heart pound and his palms sweat as Amanda walked to the door, he knew it couldn't be Fey behind the door. Amanda looked at him one last time before she opened the door.

Marc's heart stopped.

He fell back against the chair as the iconic woman walked in the apartment and whipped off her sunglasses, her eyes widening in fury when she saw him. "What have you done? Why is he here? Who else have you told about me!"

Amanda shut the door. "No one." She answered in an even voice. "I don't want anyone to know about you…I don't even want to know about you. I just_needed_ someone else to know, I couldn't carry this alone."

"Speaking of things you're carrying." Fey snapped, looking at her daughters stomach.

Amanda ignored her and walked to Marc, he was still leaning against the chair, gripping his chest, looking as if he had seen a ghost; which he had. "Marc, Marc it's okay…MARC!" She snapped her fingers in front of his face.

His head darted wildly between Amanda and Fey, he couldn't compute the fact to his brain that he was actually looking at _Fey Sommers._ "You're alive." He gasped.

"Why is that everyone's first words to me?" She drawled. "Yes Sherlock, I'm alive, no doubt my daughter will fill you in on the details…I'm not here for another trip down memory lane."

"Why are you here?" Amanda asked. "Why have you been calling me?"

"Well I am about to be a grandmother, I must thank you for making me eternally bound to Claire Meade." She said sarcastically.

"So what? You're here to make up for what you missed with me? You're going to bake cakes and kiss your grandchild's boo-boos." Amanda shot at her.

"Give it up." She said bluntly.

Amanda's eyes opened to their full extent. "What did you just say to me?"

"The baby, give it up. With the exception of the child growing inside you, nothing has changed. Daniel does not love you, he never will. You can fool yourself into thinking you love him but what you love is the idea of him, of a family and I also think you privately love the notion that you have managed to lure him from Wilhelmina; physically at least."

"Get out." Amanda growled.

Fey took her gloves of and threw them on the table, paying no heed to the shell-shocked man standing between her and her daughter. "I am not saying this to hurt you Amanda! I told you the last time how I care for you, how I want a better life for you. You and Daniel will never make a happy home, this child will grow up with two parents who cannot fully let go of how it came to be, it will pick up on that…you can't give this child the life it needs."

Amanda fumed. "So I should be like you? Hide all evidence that I'm even having this baby then have it shipped out to the closest middle class family I can find like nothing more than an inconvenient puppy I got on a whim? I am not like you…I will NEVER be like you." She placed a hand on her stomach. "You failed mother, you failed in every aspect; you failed with Bradford, you failed with me and you clearly failed in your little plan to keep Daniel and I apart. Go…go now and don't ever show your face to me again, I survived the last thirty years without you and I'll survive thirty more."

"Amanda…"

"You heard her." Marc voice was low. He walked towards her, keeping himself in between mother and daughter like a barrier. "You come back now? You lied to her, her entire life, you faked your own death and took yourself even further from her. Instead of making up for all the damage you caused her you come here and lay _this_on her? Did you think of what hurt you would cause? Not just to Amanda…you would have let Claire Meade go to jail for your murder, Wilhelmina's life is in turmoil enough as it is…how do you think your sudden rise from the grave would affect them?"

Fey smirked, amused by the mans attempt at bravado, it was like being hissed at by a baby seal. "Well…" she leaned in and whispered. "They took it slightly worse than you did."

Marc took a sudden step backwards and he heard Amanda gasp. "They know?"

"For weeks." Fey confirmed.

Marc shook his head. "Does Daniel?" Amanda asked.

"No…and it stays that way, I don't need anyone else knowing, too many know as it is." She said with a pointed stare at Marc. "Now Amanda, I need you to let me finish."

Marc stepped up again, shaking off his shock. "She said no." He picked up her gloves and thrust them against her, she grabbed them from him. "Now go."

Marc walked past her and opened the door before returning to his spot. Fey looked between him and her child and knew she wouldn't get any further, not now she had foolishly dropped the bombshell that others knew of her existence. She turned to leave.

"Oh and Fey?" Marc stopped her and she turned around. He had picked up her sunglasses from the table, she reached out a hand for them. Before she could touch them he gripped them and snapped the most recognisable part of her look in two.

"I think these went out of style when you did."

_But now you're living up behind the hill_

_And though we share the same city_

_And feel the same sun_

When the alarm went of, Wilhelmina most certainly did not want to get up and open her eyes. The few minutes that it normally took for the sleep to clear and to become aware of the day beginning was notably not present. She knew from the first loud beep from the alarm, exactly what day it was, her least favourite day of the year. She opened her eyes grudgingly and sat up in the empty bed, confused by Sawyers absence. She reached over to the note on the pillow.

_Taking Hudson for his shots, breakfast made. Got a surprise for you later and I'm not taking no for an answer._

_Happy Birthday._

_S x_

She groaned and closed her eyes, contemplated pulling the covers back over her and sleeping for the next 24 hours, but her extended vacation had led to a back-log at Mode that she was still trying to catch up with.

"Happy god damn birthday." She grumbled and pulled herself out of bed.

She opened her bedroom door and heard the sound of her front door closing, indicating Marc leaving for work. Since he had came back from speaking with Amanda he had been extremely quiet around her. In fact, she had hardly seen him, he left for work earlier and came home later, even in the office he only stopped by when her signature was required. She put it down to his awkwardness at trying to balance a friendship between both her and Amanda, or as she had come to think of her lately; the bitch who was carrying her ex husband's bastard child.

Walking into the empty kitchen, she took one dutiful bite of the eggs Sawyer had prepared for her and dumped the rest down the garbage disposal and opted for her usual black coffee with extra espresso.

Just as the first sip was sliding down her throat, there was a knock at the door. Willie fastened her robe around herself and went to answer it. Opening the door she couldn't see the person on the threshold for the array of flowers held in front of their face. Taking them from him with some difficulty, she placed them on the side table, where they took up the whole surface and then signed for them.

When the delivery man had left, she searched for the card and eyed the bouquet quizzically, the outrageous assortment of colours reminded her of an early Suarez ensemble. Finding the card she smiled when she read the printed card.

The most unique flowers I could find for the most unique woman in my life. No work today, no arguments. Get dressed and go downstairs, the car is waiting.

_When your winter comes_

_I'll be the last to know_

"Okay, Willie will be in any minute and her oh so delightful mood will only be heightened by the fact that today is her birthday." Marc barked to Betty as she struggled to keep up with him bustling down the tube.

"So?"

"Sooo." He strung the syllable out. "On top of all the usual things we need to remember to do and _not_ do to avoid pissing her off, we need to remember to steer clear of A,B,C, and for good measure I think this year we should add on D."

"ABCD?" She asked, clearly nor following.

Marc nodded sharply. "Age, Birthday, Cake…Daniel."

Betty nodded in understanding. "No alphabet, got it."

"Good, now I'm needed in the studio all morning, Willie wants to see us both at noon for the layout and after this issue's put to bed you're sequestered term is over and you can fly back to the land of cream teas and bad teeth."

"You want rid of me?" She teased, she was trying to lighten Marc's mood, he had been increasingly sombre of late.

He circled her shoulders. "Always Suarez, always." He joked back.

She pulled his arm, stopping him. "Seriously Marc, are you okay? You've been much less…Marc recently."

"Aww, using me as an adjective, how 90's"

"Stop avoiding the question."

He sighed, long and deep. He was still having difficulty with the knowledge that Fey Sommers was alive and kicking. For a woman supposedly burned up in a fiery crash, she had looked outstanding. More than that, surprisingly, was the difficulty he was having in knowing Claire and Wilhelmina already knew; especially Wilhelmina. He had been there for her resolutely over the past weeks, halting his own life to help her rebuild hers and almost losing friends in the process.

He cared about Amanda and Wilhelmina deeply, and the fact that neither had chosen to trust him with this secret hurt him more than he would admit.

He was saved from answering Betty by Claire coming to meet them next to the conference room. "You're meeting with Wilhelmina has been cancelled, she's not coming in today."

"Or dear God what now?" Marc rolled his eyes. "Is Amanda having twins?"

Claire smiled. "No, it appears Sawyer is doing something elaborate for her birthday."

"Aw that's so sweet." Betty squeaked.

Claire and Marc smiled at Betty's naivety and then looked at each other, speaking simultaneously.

"He's a dead man."

_Always the last to know how you're feeling  
>The last to know where you are<br>The last to know if you're happy now_

Under normal circumstances, they would have been right. Wilhelmina hated her birthday, always had and even more so since she began getting ever closer to the number that filled her with dread. The only person she had ever let celebrate her birthday was Daniel; when he remembered that is.

This year she decided to let all that go, she decided to let Sawyer treat her. After all, he had been nothing but wonderful to her so far. She was glad she had let him, the morning had been spent at a world class spa, where she was pampered and beautified and she had felt the weight lift from her with every minute she spent there.

After she had finished, she had been met with another delivery man, who presented her with the dress she now wore and the most dazzling diamond necklace from Tiffany's. She smiled as she played with the teardrop diamond pendant, Sawyer didn't splash the cash around much; but when he did, he did it with style.

As the evening approached, she guessed she was now on her way to meet him for dinner, she smirked as she planned on skipping it and taking him straight home to show her appreciation.

The car slowed as they reached their destination, she looked out the tinted window and felt her good mood begin to lessen.

This couldn't be right.

_Or if he's pleading with you like I pleaded with you  
>If you go, don't let me be the last to know<br>Don't let me be the last to know_

Claire sat behind Wilhelmina's desk, trying to help the woman by going through some of the less important pieces of work, which had been left for her. Willie would have an apoplectic fit if she knew but what she didn't know wouldn't hurt her.

A light rap on the door interrupted her, when she looked up her mouth flapped open and a disbelieving laugh of approval escaped her. "My my, don't you scrub up well!"

Sawyer grinned, showing of those dazzling white teeth and turned himself around, comically, letting Claire take in the sight of the usually rugged man suited and booted in what she believed was a five thousand dollar Armani tux, clutching roses. Once he had finished his spin, he mock bowed at her. "Why thank you ma'am."

Pleasantries dispensed with, she bit her lip and held her head high, feeling embarrassed about the last time she had seen him. "Sawyer, I want to apologise…about Christmas, I was out of line."

Sawyer dipped his head, graciously. "I appreciate that, but there's no need, I get it. They have a history…one you are deeply involved in. It was a strange situation, Christmas with your ex daughter in law and her new partner, without your son. I know it must have been a hard day."

"It was." She agreed softly, touched by his understanding. "I was the last one to accept what they were, but once I did…I thought it was forever, we all did. I'm glad you make her happy Sawyer…I only hope someone can do the same for Daniel."

"But he and Amanda…"

"Are together purely due to circumstance." She finished for him. She let the statement hang in the air between them. Claire became aware they were re-entering dangerous territory and she was making him uncomfortable. That wasn't her intention, she genuinely liked him, but he had to know what he was up against. Of what he would live his life being compared to; she wondered if he knew he would never match up.

"So what brings you to the office anyway, don't tell me Willie asked you to pick up work for her on her birthday of all days?" Claire chuckled, knowing that's probably exactly what the workaholic had asked him.

He shook his head slowly. "No ma'am, I'm here to pick her up for dinner. She's…she's not here?" His brow crossed in confusion.

Claire shook her head, equally as confused. "She told me you'd arranged something for the day. I spoke to her a while ago, she been driven all over the city from spas to stores and what have you. You set it up."

"Not me ma'am."

"Well then wh…oh no." She picked up the phone and dialled. The phone picked up immediately. "What did you do!" She shouted.

Sawyer couldn't hear who was on the other end but he knew it could only be one person and the normally calm man felt his temperature rise, he was reaching the edge of his patience.

"What I'm I supposed to have done now?" Daniel asked from the other end.

"Do you know what day it is?"

"Wednesday." He answered stupidly.

"The DATE?"

"The elev- SHIT!" He exclaimed and slammed the phone down.

Sawyer heard the last word clearly through the phone and dumped the roses in the trash.

_Creation's gone crazy,_

_The TV's gone mad  
>Now you're the only sane thing that I have<em>

Daniel had never moved so fast in his life, he hadn't told his assistant where he was going, he didn't tell Betty who had been sitting right in front of him. He hadn't told anyone, he had just slammed the phone down and flown from the office. Not bothering with the lift, he had thundered down the stairs and out into the cold January air into the nearest town car.

Having got caught in traffic, he tried her cell several times getting no answer. He jumped out the car and ran the remaining four blocks to his destination. As he approached, he slowed and leaned down with his hands on his thighs as he tried to catch his breath.

Please don't let her be there, please have made her decide she wasn't doing birthdays and she stayed home instead. Please don't let me have done this to her.

His feet felt like they were drawn to the ground and he dragged himself to the yacht stationed in the harbour. His prayers were obviously not heard as he climbed on the boat and walked around it.

At the single table laid out under the canopy, warmed in the bitter air by the heaters placed under it, she sat in the chair with her arms wrapped around herself, looking quite possibly the most shattered she had in the whole time he had known her. She didn't look up to meet his eyes but she knew he was there.

"Are you trying to hurt me?" She tried to make her voice hard and bitter but it came out hollow and weak.

"I'm so sorry Willie." He whispered as he walked towards her and sat slowly in the chair opposite her. "I forgot."

She attempted a smirk. "Quite clearly this is the one year you didn't."

"I mean I forgot I'd planned all this."

"I know what you meant."

He leaned forward and ran his hand down his face. "You look incredible."

"Don't Daniel." She looked up at the sky and laughed humourlessly. "You picked a hell of a time to try and recreate our first date…although I think this might actually be more disastrous than that one."

"I'm sorry." He repeated.

"You know…all day, I actually let myself enjoy this, thinking it was from Sawyer. I hadn't thought about you once, and then we pulled up here and I knew and just like that, today meant nothing."

"Don't say that."

"It has to mean nothing." She snapped. "I'm with Sawyer, you're with…her. Except you actually have a life you can build with Amanda, you have a real second chance, I keep trying to move on with Sawyer but every time I turn a corner you're there." She fought to keep the tears from her eyes but it was a battle she was slowly losing.

She stood up and reached around to unclasp the necklace from around her neck, he stood suddenly and held her wrist. "Keep it."

She looked at where his hand was on her and closed her eyes tight, willing his touch away. "No." She unclipped it and dropped it on the table.

He let go of her wrist and brought his arm slowly to his side. Wilhelmina used every last reserve of her strength to force her eyes to his and to keep the tears in check, she was tired of crying over this man. "Get over me."

Daniel shook his head, "Never."

She bit the inside of her check, trying to keep the disbelieving smile from her face and shook her head. "Fine." She looked back up. "Let me get over you."

Just like four years before, she tried to walk away from him on the yacht. Unlike four years before; he had no choice but to watch her leave.

_The last to know how you're feeling  
>The last to know where you are<br>The last to know if you're happy now_

When Daniel arrived back at the apartment he still refused to think of as home. He stopped stock still in the doorway. The apartment was in darkness, the only light was that which was thrown from the candles adorning the table. He squeezed his eyes shut; Amanda was trying to seduce him.

He wished he could give her what she wanted, it would be so much easier if he could force himself out of love with Willie and in to love with Amanda, but he couldn't see her in that light.

As the last few hours washed over him, he knew that Wilhelmina had went home to another mans waiting arms and that right now she was probably doing all she could to erase her meeting with him. He could do it too, it's not like he hadn't slept with Amanda before and maybe if he gave into the physical then the rest would follow. He owed it to her to try, he owed it to the child they would soon have. He really thought he could do it.

Until he saw her.

"What…what the hell are you wearing Amanda?" His voice was low, not believing what he was seeing.

She walked out the bedroom door, picking at the hem of the Basketball Jersey. "I thought…"

"You thought what? That me sharing that story with you was your cue to go all single white female? Get it off!" His eyes were fixed on the Knicks top that his wife had worn more than he had in the last four years and that he had loved coming home to see her in when he had been away.

Amanda bounced on her feet in exasperation. "That's not what I'm doing Daniel! I don't know what I'm doing!" The hurt was evident in her voice, he seemed to be hurting everyone today.

"I'm trying everything I can think of to try and make you want to be here, because I don't believe you when you say you do!"

He tried to rein in his temper but it was hard when she was standing there wearing that. "I'm trying too! I told you it will take time."

"How much time? When this kid graduates? When we have our first grandchild?"

Daniel pinched the bridge of his nose and calmed himself. "Amanda…I am here, I am going to do the right thing. Now please, go change, take that off and put it back. This isn't helping…it's making it worse, don't try and copy what we had, because we won't have that. Don't try and be her, don't try and think like her…in fact…don't even say her name."

He walked away from her and into Marc's old room. Although disappointed the night had not gone as foreseen, Amanda was glad he had walked away, she didn't want to fight with him. Tonight was supposed to be about her showing him she could be what he wanted her to be, it had been a stupid thoughtless move, but she felt lost at sea when it came to their 'relationship'. She wanted to believe his words and thanks to what she had found whilst cleaning, rather pretending to clean, she almost could believe it.

Straining her ears for movement and satisfied he was safely in the room, she picked up his suit jacket and took out the small box and opened it.

Her smile widened as the garnet in the middle sparkled back at her.

_Or if he's cheating on you like I cheated on you  
>And you were the last to know<em>


	21. Hold My Hand

**Hold my hand**

_This life don't last forever (hold my hand)  
>So tell me what we're waiting for (hold my hand)<br>We're Better off being together (hold my hand)  
>Than being miserable alone (hold my hand)<em>

Amanda couldn't take her eyes off the stone, as a million thoughts crossed her mind. Would they get married in church, would he want to after a divorce? Would it be a huge wedding like Daniel and Wilhelmina's had been? Should she wear white, or just a different shade of it? After all, it would be hard to hide the baby bump, by that time. Unless he was planning on marrying her after the baby was born, so that the baby would be a witness to their parents' union of love.

She only managed to tear her eyes off the ring to look at her stomach. It was way too early to see a bump, she was only just over two months into the pregnancy, but she could feel it. She was a mother, she could feel it in every fiber of her body; she felt the constant need to take care of herself if only to protect the little creature growing inside her. Amanda had hardly felt this unselfish, in her life, she had always been too busy thinking of her own interests to take care of others, but this time she knew those days were over.

She was ready to give up the old abandonment, to grow up and become a mother, the best mother in the world. She wouldn't be a carbon copy of her mother. She would never leave her child alone, and she would be there every day of their life, helping them, telling them what to do, giving them the best advice she could.

She smiled, inwardly, and walked up to the fridge, where a number was written on a pink post-it. She picked up the wall phone and dialed that number, still smiling.

When the voice on the other end sleepily answered, her smile grew bigger and she felt a wave of pride, a wave of satisfaction.

"He wants to marry me."

She could almost feel her mother straighten up on the bed and she could imagine her face perfectly: the concern, the surprise, even the incredulousness in some way. There was a silence, in which she listened carefully to her mother's even breath. It was soothing, nonetheless, but that was not why she had called her. She had not expected a motherly cheering session over the news, no; she wanted to rub it in her face. She wanted to show her that she was not just another Sommers who was bound to be dumped by a Meade. No, she would be a Sommers-Meade, something her mother had never managed to be.

"You're making the biggest mistake of your life," Fey said, her voice firm and authoritative. However, Amanda could hear a hint of pleading in her tone, the plead of a mother asking her daughter to think carefully through the matter. It made her smile.

"No, it's not a mistake, it's the right thing," she said, keeping her voice barely above a whisper to be sure Daniel didn't hear her. If he wanted it to be a surprise, it would be. She would put the ring back into his pocket and pretend to be surprised when he bent on one knee and asked her, it would be the most romantic night of her life, she could feel it. "He wants to do it for the baby, and he'll learn to love me too along the way. It happens all the time, people need things to bond over, and this baby will be just that. This baby will bring me and Daniel together, and we'll live together, and we will be happy." She paused for a second, taking in a deep breath before the final hit. "I just called to rub it in your face. You will never be happy, but I can, and I will."

She put the receiver down and kept her hand on the device, still holding it tight, as if that display of courage and fieriness had cost her a huge effort. She pushed herself away and picked up Daniel's jacket, slipping the velvet box back into the pocket, and let the garment fall back down on the chair. She took a step back and clasped her hands together, doing all she could to keep the scream of joy from bursting out.

After all the tribulations, she was making it back on the surface. She was about to have a beautiful baby, a husband, a life she had never thought she wanted, but a life that now was the only one she could see herself in.

_Cause I've been there before  
>And you've been there before<br>But together we can be alright.  
>Cause when it gets dark and when it gets cold<br>We hold each other till we see the sunlight_

Meanwhile, at 38th Fifth Avenue, the atmosphere was tense. When Wilhelmina had walked back into the apartment, that night, after the disaster that had resulted from Daniel's plans for her birthday, she had found Sawyer, still dressed up, sitting on the couch of her main room, waiting for her.

She had tried to explain, but he hadn't listened. He kept petting Hudson, as if her words were going right through him. She told him she thought it was him, Sawyer, who had set it up, and that was the only reason she had agreed to follow the instructions all along. Still, he hadn't given any sign that he understood what she was saying.

She had rolled her eyes and stormed off, not bearing the fact that he was acting like a jealous boyfriend after only a few weeks into their relationship. What was he expecting, that she would know in advance that her ex husband had set up a romantic day for her birthday? How on Earth was she supposed to? What was exactly her fault, in all of this?

She was taking off her dress, when he walked in and apologized for his behavior. She listened to his words, to his insecurities, and she could understand why the man felt so frustrated by the situation. Still, there was nothing she could do about it. She and Daniel had something, and Sawyer could never quite get the full idea of exactly how important it had been.

No one ever would.

She forgave him, he kissed her.

However, something was wrong. Her mind was off somewhere, miles away from him, miles away from herself. When Sawyer touched her, that night, it didn't ignite her like it usually did. When he kissed her, she didn't feel the same burning sensation she always did. When he loved her, she just couldn't find it in her to love him back.

She didn't love him.

So, that night, she had settled for something that she had never had to do: she had faked it. She was good, and she almost laughed it off when Sawyer rolled off and spooned her. So many times the thought had occurred, she might just drop the fashion career and give acting a chance.

And just when she was mentally thinking of the speech she would give the night her name would be announced as the Academy Award winner, Sawyer rested his chin on her shoulder and looked down at her. She looked back and smiled, in what she hoped was a reassuring gesture, but his expression didn't change.

"What?" she asked,

"What's wrong?" he asked back, his hand sliding up and down her side.

"What are you talking about?" she insisted, feigning ignorance while a pang of guilt hit her stomach.

"Are we going to keep answering our questions with other questions?" he said, with a smirk. Wilhelmina bit the inside of her cheek, closed her eyes for a split second and kept looking at the man, inviting him to voice his doubts. "So, what's wrong?" he asked again, halting his hand on her hip and propping his head on his hand.

Wilhelmina rolled on her back and looked up at him, searching her soul for an answer she knew she couldn't give him. "Nothing," she lied, with a courteous tone she hated herself for. She tried to prop herself on her elbows, trying to shut him up and kiss him, but he held her back against the mattress with his free hand and tilted his head, clearly not buying it. Wilhelmina huffed and looked away.

"You know, I'm not eighteen anymore, I can tell when a woman fakes it."

If she were a blushing type of woman, she knew this would be the right time to blush. However, she opted for a strong denial of the situation. "I didn't-" she began, but Sawyer lifted his eyebrows so high they almost disappeared under the hairline. "What, really, I didn't."

"Why are you lying to me?" he said, shaking his head. "What's the point? We both know you did." Wilhelmina's silence, this time, was more than an answer enough for him. "Why?" he asked.

"Look, Sawyer," she began, trying to shrug the situation off as a bump on the road. "it happens. I'm a woman, and sometimes women just…can't. We're not like you, men, always reaching the finish line no matter what."

"_Finish line_," he drawled, trying hard not to laugh at her choice of words.

"Yes, Sawyer, _finish line,_" she repeated. "Don't make it big, it's not your fault. Sometimes, it just happens."

"Bu it never happened so far," he said, the tone of the conversation changing suddenly with that simple sentence.

"What are you implying?" she asked, rolling on her side, so that they were face to face.

Sawyer shrugged and returned his head on her hip, drawing patterns on the sheets wrapped around her body. "It's curious this happens now. After, you know…Daniel."

Wilhelmina frowned and her eyes darted to the sides quickly before she snorted and sat up. She started looking round for her robe, needing the distance, needing the space, needing to get away from the accusations coming from the man she allowed herself to share her bed with. But she wasn't quick enough, because Sawyer sat up and placed his hands on her shoulders, coming up behind her, and rested his forehead against the back of her head.

"Sorry," he whispered. "That came out rude."

"Never mind how it came out, it came out because that's what you think," she snapped, trying to shrug his hands off her. "You're basically saying I think of Daniel when you're with me. That's one secure man I have here."

He held her in place, and she sighed, giving in and letting him keep her close. "I'm sorry," he repeated, his voice stronger. "But you need to understand me. Every time, every single time, you see Daniel and your mood darkens, you become all nervous and the smallest things set you off. I've been living with it for the past weeks, but this…If this happens, it makes me think. It makes me wonder."

"Wonder about what?" she asked, fearing the answer.

"I'm afraid you're still in love with him."

She stiffened, and her breath quickened. "He's my ex husband."

"That's not an answer."

Wilhelmina turned around and looked into the man's eyes, feeling his pain and his fear of being the eternal second to the ghost of Daniel Meade. She brought a hand up to his cheek and caressed his cheekbone with her thumb. "I don't have an answer," she said truthfully. "I'm not in love with you Sawyer. I care about you, a lot. But I'm not in love."

"I know you're not," he said, placing his hand over hers. "I don't expect you to be, after such a short time. But I need to know if it's possible for you to love me, in the long run." As he said this, his head fell down on his laps, and looking at him Wilhelmina felt sorry for him. She didn't know if she could give him that.

"I think I could," she said, well aware of the lie escaping her lips as she leaned in closing the distance between them.

_Hold my hand  
>Baby I promise that I'll do<br>All I can  
>Things will get better if you just hold my hand<br>Nothing can come between us if you just hold,  
>hold my, hold, hold my, hold, hold my hand<em>

The conference room was packed, while she addressed everyone for the first meeting for the new issue. Marc, standing beside her, handed everyone a copy of the mock up outline, while she repeated for the umpteenth time who would take care of what.

"I will personally supervise the centre-spread, this month," she announced, her gaze falling upon the back of Marc's head. "I hope everything has been set up."

Marc spun around and smiled. "Of course," he said. "We have a dozen outfits coming from Spain, they should all be shipped by the end of next week." He reached for his folder and took out a stack of pictures of the clothes. "It's Tango vs Fandango, right?"

"Yeah," she mumbled, watching the pictures Marc was handing her. "And Marc, tell someone the light went out in the copy room. I don't know what the hell is going on in this place, but it's even worse than my marriage, and trust me that was a disaster."

There was a moment of awkwardness in the room, and Wilhelmina looked up at the Editors, who were exchanging uncomfortable, confused looks.

"You can laugh, you know?" she said, shaking her head and lowering her eyes on the pictures again.

"Miss Slater," came a voice from the door.

Wilhelmina lifted a hand and kept her eyes on the pictures, deep in thought. Marc looked at the small girl standing on the threshold and tilted his head questioningly. The girl, who was the new receptionist, pointed at her desk, through the glass wall. Marc narrowed his eyes and then widened them.

"Willie…" he whispered.

"Wait," she said, focused on what she had in her hands.

"I don't think I should," he said, placing a hand on her shoulder and shaking her lightly to catch her attention.

Wilhelmina snorted and sighed, closing her eyes. "What, what is it Marc, what the-" she exclaimed, lifting her head and stopped dead on her tracks, taking in the scene. Through the glass wall, near the big circular desk, stood Sawyer, leaning against it, holding Hudson's leash in his hand and casually looking around. The dog was sitting by his feet, strangely calm. Her eyes widened when she looked over Sawyer's shoulder and noticed Daniel standing at the end of the corridor, talking to someone.

"Shit," she whispered, and with a quick movement she left the room, walking fast toward Sawyer, well aware of the stares following her. When Hudson saw her, the puppy stood on his four legs waggling his tail madly, happy to see her. Sawyer smirked, seeing her drawing closer, and pushed himself off the desk.

"Hello gorgeous," he said, smiling at her when she was within earshot. "Hudson and I happened to be on the block, and thought we might drop by and say hi."

Wilhelmina's eyes darted to the side, where Daniel was dismissing the accountant. She didn't want them to meet, she didn't want to be in the middle of an awkward threesome, not in the office. She smiled and placed her hand on his elbow, trying to drag him into her office, but it was too late.

"Wilhelmina."

She shut her eyes when she heard Daniel's voice calling after her. Her arm fell down her side, as Sawyer turned around in Daniel's direction, and she did the same. Daniel shifted his eyes between Wilhelmina and Sawyer, but if he was irritated by the man's presence he didn't show it. After a short second in which she thought Daniel would just turn around and leave, he stepped forward and approached them.

Hudson, as soon as Daniel came into view, yapped happily at who he saw as his third owner, after Wilhelmina and Sawyer. Daniel smiled down at the dog, who had grown a good four inches since the last time he'd seen him, a month before, and kneeled down to stroke the dog's muzzle. "Hey little you," he whispered.

Standing back up, he extended his hand to Sawyer, who took it and shook it politely. "Hi man," he said.

"Nice to see you again," Daniel replied. Then, shifting his eyes back on Wilhelmina, he folded his arms. "I need your names for the Paris Fashion Week."

"I'm not going," she said.

"I know," he stated. "I need the names of the Editors you're sending over there. We need to notify the organization for press seats and passes."

Sawyer's eyes were following the exchange, confused. When had the situation changed to a professional and relaxed one? What had he missed?

"I don't know yet, I'll have the names emailed to you by the end of the week," she said, shrugging.

Sawyer's focus was solely onto the two people before him, and he didn't notice the seamstress passing them by, with a stack of feathers boas in her arms. He didn't notice Hudson sniffing her as she passed by, and didn't notice the animal's eyes lit up when he caught a glimpse of a red boa sticking from the woman's arms.

Suddenly, the dog spring forward and Sawyer felt the leash slip out of his grasp. "Fuck," he exclaimed, and his eyes widened as Hudson turned a corner and disappeared.

Wilhelmina and Daniel stood still, looking terrified at the corner where Hudson had just disappeared. Wilhelmina opened her mouth but no words came out. Daniel dropped his papers on the desk and ran after the dog, disappearing behind the same corner. Wilhelmina looked round for a second, then started to run after Hudson and Daniel. Before she could turn round the same corner, she lifted a finger in Sawyer's direction.

"Dial 323, it's the closet's number, tell them to close the doors!" she yelled, before setting after her dog. She ran down the corridor, feeling the uneasiness of her 5 inches heels. She huffed and stopped, leaning with a hand against the wall, and taking off her Manolos, throwing them on the nearest desk, before her employees' bewildered looks. "Did you see a dog? Or Daniel?" she asked one of them. The boy nodded and pointed to the corridor on his left.

Wilhelmina ran in that direction, unaware of the ridiculousness of the situation: she, Wilhelmina Slater, running barefoot round Mode's office, looking for her dog. That was something she wouldn't tell Fey, or she would die for real. Heart attack.

When she reached the end of the corridor she looked left and right, before hearing Daniel's voice coming from her right. She made a turn and tried to follow the voice, her heart beating faster when she noticed she was getting dangerously close to the closet. She hoped Sawyer's call had reached the seamstress on time. The thought of what Hudson might do, in a closet full of shoes, which seemed to be his favorite chew toy, appalled her; especially because those shoes were everything but cheap.

"Damn you Marc," she muttered under her breath, vowing to make the boy pay for any damage Hudson might have caused. She stopped when she heard the voice of the seamstress yell insults in her native language (was she Polish? Hungarian?) and knew immediately where Hudson was.

She reached the opaque door of the closet and pushed, noticing it wasn't closed at all. What the hell had Sawyer been doing, instead of what she had asked him to? Catching flies? Stepping over the threshold, she looked around and immediately saw the blonde animal in the middle of the room, looking straight into her eyes. She noticed immediately something blue and shiny dangled from his mouth.

She took a careful step forward and extended her hand. "Hudson, give me the…whatever it is," she said, smiling at the dog reassuringly. "Come here, boy, come here. Give that to me," she drawled, bending slowly when she was within reach. The dog's eyes were fixed on her hand, as she slowly approached.

Then, within a second, she heard the secondary door been burst open and someone running in, bumping straight into her side. She was thrown down on the ground at the impact and Hudson jumped back out of reach. She looked at the person beside her, on the ground just like her, massaging his shoulder: Daniel.

She looked at him, who looked back at her, then they both looked at Hudson, who had sat on the clean floor, and was studying his masters, asking himself why they were laying on the floor. The dog tilted his head and, reluctantly, lay down, letting the shiny blue object fall from his mouth. Wilhelmina sighed at the sight of the blue Vuitton purse that was supposed to be on the cover for the April issue.

But when she looked back at Daniel, still on the floor, with a look of frustration on his face, her lips twitched and curved in the smallest smile. He shook his head and chuckled, falling on his back and covering his eyes. As hard as she tried to suppress it, the laughter overcame her and she started laughing in a way she didn't even remember she could. She held her stomach, and Daniel looked at her briefly before following her and laughing along from his position on the floor.

"What's going on?" came Marc's voice, and slowly a bunch of other people entered the closet, staring at the two of them with amused expressions painted over their faces. Wilhelmina couldn't stop laughing as she took in each and every one of their faces; she couldn't realise what it looked like, but it sure as hell was funny that they were both on the floor with a waggling Hudson and a Vuitton covered in drool.

Or maybe it wasn't really that funny, maybe it was stupid and childish, but it was relieving to laugh.

She managed to kill the laughter when, in the chaos of all those faces, she could see one in particular, less than pleased. She motioned to Marc, and the boy came closer and helped her up. She brushed the dust off her skirt and walked up to Sawyer, who was still looking at Daniel.

She looked over her shoulder, following his stare, and gestured for Daniel to stand up. He did, quickly, and swiftly grabbed the purse from Hudson's claws, and the dog's leash too. He handed the purse to Wilhelmina, and the leash to Sawyer, with a sheepish smile. "This dog needs to be sedated," he said, chuckling.

Wilhelmina looked down, smiling, unable to hide it. Sawyer looked at her briefly, his lips pursed and, for what seemed like the first time since she'd known him, he looked upset.

"Let's go to my office, shall we?" she said, looking round and perceiving the presence of those people, now for the first time, as an intrusion. With a small smile, she nodded in Daniel and Marc's direction, before leading Sawyer outside the room.

Daniel stood staring at her back, as she drew further away, and only managed to snap out of his trance when Marc slapped him on the back of his head. "Ouch!" he exclaimed, whispering, as the people around them began scattering from the room. Marc waited till they were the only people left in the room and tilted his head, narrowing his eyes at Daniel. "What now?" Daniel asked. "I did nothing, she started laughing, I laughed too."

Marc shook his head. "Don't do this to Amanda," he said, his voice firm and serious. "She might have done the wrong thing, for so many reasons, but she doesn't deserve to be your second choice."

"She's not my choice," Daniel hissed. "I'm not in love with her, Marc. The only reason we're together is because of this baby. I can't promise her anything, but I do have duties. I'm with her, Marc, but I'm not in love with her. She knows it, she accepts it."

"You don't know her at all, Daniel," Marc chimed in. "She has hopes, she has dreams too. She's a girl, she's probably making up things in her head, things that'll only delude her more when you'll turn out to be the asshole you are."

"What am I supposed to do, Marc? Leave her alone to raise a child that is mine too? I can't, I wasn't taught that way," he explained. "All I can do is support her, be her friend. I'm not completely ruling out the possibility of us eventually developing feelings for each other…but as of now, I can't. I already love someone. And I won't stop loving her until I know in my heart there's not a small chance of getting her back."

"There isn't, Daniel!" Marc exclaimed. "You need to give it up."

"No," Daniel whispered. "I can feel it. There's still a chance."

_The nights are getting darker (hold my hand)  
>And there's no peace inside (hold my hand)<br>So why make our lives harder (hold my hand)  
>By fighting love, tonight<em>

Sawyer had only agreed to stay a couple of minutes before cooking up some excuse to leave. They hadn't talked about Daniel, she didn't see why they should. What happened had nothing to do with Daniel, it would have happened with anyone. It was the situation, it was Hudson, it was her need to remember what it was like to laugh.

Daniel had nothing to do with it.

Hadn't he? How could she be 100% sure it wasn't his presence, and the fact that for the first time they were in a place where the anger and the resentment couldn't reach them? Why had it felt so right, in that moment, just the two of them and Hudson?

She drummed her fingers on the glass surface of her desk, absentmindedly. Her agenda was before her eyes, and she looked at the blank page.

_Story of my life,_she thought. She had something good in her hands, and yet she seemed to look at all she didn't have. When she stopped and looked at her life, now, it was just like staring at a blank page she just couldn't find anything to write on.

"Aunt Wils?"

Her head snapped up as she took in the young teenager on the threshold. Tall and well-built, with middle-length brown hair that reached his shoulders, and deep hazel eyes. His soft features reminded her of the past, when he used to be just a child, while now he was a little man, in his black leather jacket and his washed out jeans.

"Am I still allowed to call you that?" the boy asked with a small, sad smile, walking inside the office and taking a spin in the middle of the room. "Everything's as I left it one year ago."

"Not everything," she said, smirking. "And as you weren't allowed to call me _aunt Wils_before, neither are you now." She stared the 19 year-old down, and then tilted her head to the side, leaning against the arm of her chair, and her face softened. "Hi, DJ."

The boy bowed mockingly and took off the jacket, throwing it on the chaise. Wilhelmina followed the garment till it fell on the white leather, and lifted her eyebrows. "Sorry," DJ exclaimed, beaming. Then, he took out one of the chairs opposite her and sat down, rubbing his hands together and then leaning on his elbows. He craned his neck to look into his aunt's eyes. "So…how are you?"

"Is your mother here?" Wilhelmina asked.

"Yes," he answered, but he was not going to let go that easily. "How are you?" he repeated.

Wilhelmina smiled. "Where is she?" she asked, instead.

"Meeting Uncle Dan," he explained, leaning back against the back of the chair, never taking his eyes off Wilhelmina. "That bad, huh?"

"You do realize you're having a conversation with yourself?" Wilhelmina asked, standing up and pushing the chair back as she did so. DJ's eyes kept following her movements. "If you're expecting me to use you as my shrink, you're so wrong you wouldn't believe it." DJ's grin grew wider, but he didn't seem to be hearing a word she was saying, too busy trying to get her to talk. "Why are you here, anyway?" she asked, busying herself, collecting papers from her desk that didn't really need to be collected. "Aren't you going to see _uncle Dan_?" She drawled the last words.

"I wanted to catch up with my favorite Aunt first," he said, the idiotic grin never leaving his face. Suddenly she was reminded of how much exactly he reminded her of Daniel.

"I'm your only Aunt," Wilhelmina stated, still pretending to be reading stuff.

"Wrong, you forget Aunt Sibylle," he chimed in.

"Again, I'm your only Aunt," Wilhelmina repeated, looking up. "Look, I'm glad you came here and felt the need to check on my mental state, but I think it's better if we…"

"Keep our distance?" he completed the sentence. "Are you kidding me?" he asked, the grin long forgotten, forgotten by a confused, almost resentful. "So what, you and Dan get a divorce and all of a sudden you and I stop being family?"

"Yes, that's exactly how it works."

"Well, that's bullshit," he exclaimed, standing up.

"Watch your mouth, young man," Wilhelmina warned, lifting a finger.

DJ smiled at her antics, and even Wilhelmina herself felt uncomfortable with the motherly ways she used to get with him.

"Well, I have a present for you," he said, thrusting a hand in his pocket and dropping a rectangular, flat package on the desk. "I know I'm late for your birthday, but it's better late than never."

Wilhelmina studied the package, not touching it. "You didn't have to," she said.

"It's from mum, too," he said, nodding. "Just, open it," he insisted, sliding the package over to her side of the desk. Wilhelmina rolled her eyes and, with a smile, grabbed the package and tore the envelope, meeting a familiar writing on the white box. "Mother chose it," DJ said.

"_Chanel,_" Wilhelmina said, smiling. "Your mother is the only Meade with good taste." The two shared a chuckle, and Wilhelmina lifted the top of the box, and smiled at the small, shiny black rectangular clutch bag, with a single pearl on the silver clasp.

"You like it?" DJ pressed.

"It's _Chanel_," she said, wiggling her eyebrows. "Of course I love it!" Closing the box, the placed it back on the desk and smiled at her nephew. "Thank you. And I'll thank your mother as soon as I see her," she added.

DJ nodded and, with a sigh, took his jacket from the chaise longue, and toyed with it for a few seconds before nodding once more and pointing at the door, meaning he was going. He was on his way to the door, when he head Wilhelmina say his name very weakly. He turned around and looked at the woman he had considered family for such a long time.

"It's that bad," Wilhelmina said, masking her feelings, hiding the pain behind a smile, but she knew DJ could read it in her eyes.

_Cause I've been there before  
>And you've been there before<br>But together we can be alright (alright)  
>Cause when it gets dark and when it gets cold<br>We hold each other till we see the sunlight_

"How do you like Sally?" Amanda asked, turning yet another page.

"Makes me think of Sally Field," Marc whined, rolling his head back against the back of the couch. "I told you, Lady Gaga is good."

"Marc, I'm not going to call my daughter Lady Gaga," Amanda stated.

"But you wanted to call her _Cher_," Marc pointed out.

"Marc, _Cher_is ageless. You, of all people, should know that."

"Because I'm gay?" Marc deadpanned, lifting his head to look at her.

"I was about to suggest because you're smart, but yeah, because you're gay works too," she agreed. "How about Naomi?"

"Like Naomi Campbell? You want your daughter to grow up and beat you down with a phone?" came Betty's voice from the kitchen table. "I still think you should call her Anne."

"Only you could suggest such a boring, obvious name," Amanda exclaimed, closing the book and dropping it on the cushion next to her. "This baby will be the daughter of Daniel Meade and Amanda Tanen Sommers, she needs a name that will tell people who she really is…A name like-"

"Wilhelmina?" Betty said, smirking.

"Yeah, let's call her Wilhelmina, that way there's not a chance this baby will ever see the light of day," Amanda murmured, looking down at her stomach. "You know what, let's do it. I'll call her Wilhelmina just to spite her."

Marc chuckled. "Well, why don't you call her…_Fey?"_he asked, smirking.

Amanda's head snapped in his direction, eyes wide. He was grinning, and Amanda shot a glance in Betty's direction.

"You know, it would be nice," Betty said, leaning her head against her hand. "It would be a nice tribute to your mother, after all. A nice way to remember her and, somehow, be sure her legacy lives on."

Marc nodded knowingly, and Amanda snorted. "Right, her legacy."

The conversation was interrupted by a knock on the door, and Amanda stood up, glad for it. "Must be Daniel," she said, a smile appearing on her face when she said his name. Betty smiled too, but Marc stiffened on the couch, reminiscing his and Daniel's chat, that afternoon. He felt bad for his friend.

She opened up and the three of them gasped when Daniel appeared on the threshold, not alone. Betty squealed and stood up abruptly, running to the door and hugging the tall, blonde woman that was in his left, while she extended an arm to DJ and pulled him into the hug too.

Amanda's breath quickened, and she looked back to meet Marc's eyes, and to see the same confusion as she felt. She turned and smiled at Daniel, stepping aside; he walked in and Amanda stood with her hand on the doorknob, waiting for Betty to release their guests.

When she did, Alexis shifted her eyes on Amanda and, even though it was subtle, Amanda noticed how her gaze had fallen briefly upon her stomach. Instinctively, she brought a hand up to her belly, and Alexis smiled at the gesture. "Hi," she whispered. "You remember DJ?"

Amanda was taken aback by the kindness Alexis was showing her: she had expected her to be as bitter as everyone else, but she had forgotten how different Alexis was from the rest of the Meades. She smiled and nodded, smiling at the man who, if things went according to the plan, would become her nephew.

"Hi DJ," she said.

"Hi," he said, polite but still somewhat colder than his mother. Amanda let them in and closed the door.

"I'm sorry, Daniel didn't tell me you were coming," she said. "I would have prepared dinner."

"And with that, she means _I_would have made dinner," Betty chimed in.

"Hi Marc," DJ exclaimed, approaching the couch from where Marc was witnessing the scene. "You staying here for dinner?" he asked, hopeful.

"Sorry, boy," he said, standing up and patting him on the back, noticing how taller than him he'd gotten since the last time he'd seen him. "Wilhelmina's waiting for me."

"Oh, you're staying with her?" DJ asked, lowering his voice while the other people in the room seemed busy with small talk.

"Someone has to, right?" Marc said, shrugging. "But we'll catch up, I promise."

DJ nodded and leaned in, trying not to be heard by the others. "Tell her I'm sorry, for everything, and that if she needs me, she knows where to find me. We're staying at Grandma's."

Marc smiled at the boy, remembering the deep bond between Wilhelmina and her nephew, despite the distance. With a last nod, he took his coat and headed towards the door. On the threshold, he turned around to study the scene. Betty, Daniel, Alexis and Amanda were sitting around the table, but Amanda seemed like a fish out of water.

He tried to catch her attention, to catch her eyes, but she kept her eyes on Daniel.

If only he could tell her there was no chance in hell he would ever love her back while Wilhelmina Slater was alive.

_So if you just hold my hand  
>Baby I promise that I'll do (If you just, If you just)<br>All I can  
>Things will get better if you just hold my hand<em>_  
>Nothing can come between us if you just hold,<br>hold my, hold, hold my, hold, hold my hand_

Daniel, DJ and Betty were out on the balcony, chatting, two hours later, while Alexis helped Amanda cleaning up after dinner: they'd ended up ordering in. Amanda was carefully piling up the dishes, while Alexis was picking up glasses and cutlery, sometimes stealing a glance or two at the other woman.

Amanda felt Alexis' glare, and she had tried to ignore it at first. But something inside her snapped, and she couldn't control it.

"What is it?" she asked.

"Nothing," Alexis said, too quickly to be believable. "Well, I'm just…I don't know what to say."

Amanda opened her arms. "Me neither."

"I'm not mad at you," Alexis said, placing the glasses back on the table and shaking her head sadly. "I'm mad at my brother, for being weak. I'm mad at Wilhelmina for bringing this on herself with her behavior. But you…you're the least guilty of them all."

Amanda smiled, as someone recognized she was not the cause of such a tragedy, for the first time since the whole ordeal had begun. "Thank you," she whispered.

"But I don't want you to hold your hopes up, Amanda," Alexis added. "I know Daniel. He'll never forget Wilhelmina. He won't because he knows he's the reason of the breakup, and he will never be able to let that go."

"He's going to propose."

Amanda clasped a hand upon her mouth, not able to believe she'd really let it slip.

"What?" Alexis whispered.

Lowering her arm, slowly, Amanda bit her bottom lip. "I found the ring," she confessed. "And he says he wants to _do it right,_" she explained. "I found it in his pocket, while I was putting his things away and…Oh Alexis, I know he might still love Wilhelmina, but don't you think maybe, somewhere into his heart, he might have feelings for me too? Maybe this baby can bring us back together?"

Alexis couldn't believe what Amanda was telling her. Never, in a million years, would she have thought Daniel would marry Amanda, not so soon after his divorce with Wilhelmina; but then, he was a good man, he was probably doing it to be sure the baby grew up with strong values, and a real family.

She didn't have the strength to tell Amanda that, however, no, probably he would never love again.

_I can tell you're tired of being lonely (yeah)  
>Take my hand don't let go baby hold me (hold me)<br>Come to me and let me be your one and only (hold my hand)  
>So I can make it alright til' the morning (hold my hand)<em>

Wilhelmina and Hudson were in her bedroom. She was on her bed, on one side, propped on her elbow, while Hudson was on the floor, at the side of the bed, looking up at her. The two looked at each other for a few seconds, before Wilhelmina cracked and smiled.

"Come here, big guy," she said, patting the side of the bed.

Hudson didn't need to be told twice, and he immediately jumped on the bed, no longer needing any help thank to the inches he'd gained during the past two months. He walked in circles for a while before settling down in the curve of Wilhelmina's body, with his back against her stomach and his head next to hers.

She looked down at the dog, who looked up at her with his lively eyes; she could feel the beat of his tail hitting the mattress, and she started to stroke his fur on his back.

"What should I do, Hudson?" she asked, caressing the dog. "You know, I'm not one to usually ask for advice, but something tells me you're pretty smart…" she paused and looked as the dog's tongue darted out as he licked his paw. "Your little stunt today…was it to bring me and Daniel together?" she asked, not stopping for a second to think the absurdity of what she was doing. "You miss him, don't you?" she asked.

Hudson stretched leisurely and rolled on his back, moving his paws up in the air. Wilhelmina smiled and lay her head on the mattress, while stroking the dog's neck casually. "I miss him too," she whispered. "But what can we do? It's not about me and him anymore. There's Sawyer. And there's a baby. A baby that has done nothing wrong, except for choosing the wrong womb." She sighed deeply and closed her eyes. "A baby that Daniel has wanted for years, and that I would have never been able to give him."

As if hearing and understanding what she was saying, Hudson rolled over and jumped off the bed. She propped herself on her elbow again, and watched him as he disappeared behind the door to her walk-in closet. With a sigh, she pushed herself from the bed and walked into her closet, locating him immediately. She could only see his back, but he was digging in the laundry basket that she used as storage for old accessories.

"Stop it, Hudson," she said, tired, walking slowly to the spot where the dog's head was deep in her stuff. She tried to pull at his collar, but the dog thrust his head further into the basket. "Whatever, choke on it," she said, turning her back on him and walking out.

She crawled back on the bed and sat against the headboard, crossing her legs. In that moment, Hudson reappeared from the closet and jumped on the bed.

"Are you done destroying my things?" she asked.

He sat opposite Wilhelmina, and dropped something in her laps. She looked down and lifted the end of an emerald green tie. Daniel's wedding tie. She shifted her eyes on the dog, and he lay down, placing his muzzle on her ankles, looking up.

"How did you find it?" she asked, with a small smile.

Hudson's head snapped up as a heard of a slamming door could be heard from the other room. Wilhelmina looked at the tie in her hand and hastily stuffed it under her butt when she heard Sawyer's voice calling after her.

"Bedroom!" she shouted, and he stepped in seconds later. "Hey," she whispered.

Sawyer smiled and crawled on the bed. Hudson, as if he knew exactly what had to be done, jumped off the bed and stood on the threshold to the closet. Sawyer grabbed Wilhelmina by her ankles and pulled at her, sliding her down on the bed, as he moved above her and kissed her without uttering a single word.

She kissed him back, feeling the small ball pressed into her back, under her. She immediately reached under her and threw it aside, taking advantage of Sawyer's distraction.

Hudson watched as the tie landed in front of him, and looked up on the bed. Sawyer's lips left hers and he focused on the side of her neck. Craning her neck, Wilhelmina tilted her head and pointed the tie with her finger. Hudson took the tie in his mouth and disappeared into the closet.

As Sawyer kept up his actions, she closed her eyes and relaxed. Either she had the smartest dog in the world, or the tie had just become another one of his toys.

_I can tell you're tired of being lonely (hold my hand)  
>Take my hand don't let go baby hold me (hold me)<br>Come to me and let me be your one and only (one and only)  
>So I can make it alright til' the morning (hold my hand)<em>

Daniel had insisted he drove up to Claire's with them, and he would be back in the apartment. He had said he wanted to spend some alone time with his family, but Alexis knew he wanted to get away from his present. Now, as she walked into the kitchen of their family house, she remained on the threshold looking as her two men shared a laugh over a cup of coffee. DJ and Daniel turned, feeling her presence, and Alexis smiled and walked into the room.

Reaching DJ's side, she ran a hand through his hair. "You should go to bed," she suggested, and DJ nodded without complaining, knowing his mother probably needed time alone with Daniel.

"'Night Mum. Goodnight, uncle Dan," he said, leaving the room.

Alexis sat in her son's place, and slid her hands over the counter, reaching Daniel's and placing them over his. He smiled and squeezed them. "Where's Mum?" he asked.

"Sleeping," Alexis told him. "Danny, there's something I need to ask you. But you have to swear to me you'll tell me the truth."

"Sure," he said, confused.

"Are you going to marry Amanda?"

"No."

The reply came quick and determined, and for a second Alexis thought she hadn't heard right. "Excuse me?"

"You heard me," he said. "No, I'm not going to get married to anyone. I'm done with that. I'm going to be there for the baby, I'm going to give him the closest thing to a family I can think of, but I'm never getting married again. I can't enter a church and vow to love someone till death do us part when I'm perfectly aware I don't mean that."

"Maybe a civil marriage-"

"No," he repeated, dead serious. "I'm not marrying anyone Alexis. Why are you asking?"

Alexis sighed and let go of his hands, fidgeting with her own fingers. "Amanda thinks you're going to propose, Daniel," she burst out. Daniel opened his mouth to say something, but she cut him off. "She found a ring."

Daniel shook his head, then remained petrified, looking ahead, as the realization crept up. "Fuck," he breathed.

"What?" Alexis inquired.

"There is a ring…" he trailed off as he reached into his breast-pocket and took out the small velvet box he brought with him wherever he went. He turned it in his hands for a little, then he placed it on the table and clicked it open and turned it towards Alexis, showing the ring to her.

"So, there is a ring," Alexis drawled, her eyes fixed on the shiny red stone.

"Yes," Daniel agreed. "But it's not for Amanda."

Alexis nodded as the pieces of the puzzle slowly started coming together. "Wilhelmina?" she asked, and Daniel nodded. "You need to tell Amanda, Daniel. You need to tell her, now, before that girl starts getting lost in a delusional daydreaming."

Daniel turned the ring back towards him, nodding.

He had to tell her.

_Hold my hand (yeah)  
>Baby I promise (hold my hand) that I'll do<br>All I can (hold my hand)  
>Things will get better if you just hold my hand<br>Nothing can come between us if you just hold,  
>hold my, hold, hold my, hold, hold my hand.<em>


	22. Like I Never Love You At All

**Like I Never Loved You At All**

One month had passed, four long weeks since Alexis had told him of Amanda's preconceived misconception of a non-existent proposal; or to put it simply, since she had gone snooping, found a ring intended for another woman, put two and two together and come up with five.

Daniel liked to think that in the seven years since Fey Sommers had passed and his dad gave him the reigns to Mode he had matured. He now treated people with more respect, especially women, he approached business matters in a more focussed manner and he no longer ran from difficult situations, preferring to tackle them head on. So how did this new and improved Daniel Meade handle the scenario with the mother of his child?

He ignored it.

He chose the path of ignorance: if he didn't confront it, it would simply go away. His tactics had resorted to staying later and later at the office, to be sure she was asleep when he got home, and rising earlier to leave before she awoke. She didn't have the courage to seek him out at the Meade building, too worried about coming face to face with Wilhelmina, so it meant their time together was limited. The rare moments in which they did spend time in each other's company and shared snippets of conversations were awkward. Amanda spoke enthusiastically of their kid, pushing him to look for a bigger apartment and wanted his opinions on names and the usual baby paraphanalia.

She was trying to get him excited about fatherhood, he was trying too, he really was, but everything still felt numb and surreal when he thought of the baby inside her. How could he feel anything but, when he was clinging to the chance of life with another; when on the rare occasions he tried to picture how this baby would look, the image shifted to a child with mocha skin and eyes the shade of blue that only one person he knew possessed.

He knew he was being cruel, it wasn't his intention, but he couldn't force it. Just like he couldn't force himself to give her the intimacy she craved. He had made sure he had removed the ring from his jacket and instead secreted it in the drawer of his desk at work. Throughout the days, he still found himself giving it surreptitious glances; still found himself slipping into the easy fantasy that he was only keeping it there until he finished for the day and he took his wife for dinner where he would present it to her.

He snapped the box shut and placed it back in the drawer when he heard footsteps approaching. As the drawer closed, he smiled as Betty walked in the office. She did not smile back.

"Daniel, something needs to be done about Mode."

"What do you mean?"

She let herself land on the chair in front of the desk in a heap. "I mean, there's just too much work!"

Daniel chuckled. "That's not your problem anymore Betty, your sequestered term was over almost four weeks ago. Why are you still here? Not that I'm not grateful, but you have a pretty important job back in Blighty."

"Did you not hear me?" She leaned forward, exasperated. "There is too much work! Wilhelmina is trying to be both Editor-In-Chief and Creative Director, Marc's trying to pick up the slack but we're drowning. We need a Creative Director."

He held his hands out in a 'what can I do gesture' "I know Betty, believe me, both Willie and I have been interviewing candidates…no one is qualified enough…I'll talk to Wilhelmina again."

Betty noticed the small smile as he said his ex wife's name. Since their little encounter with the terror that is Hudson, and his little trip into the closet, relations between them had began to thaw, in the office at least. Wilhelmina was more receptive of him when he had to make trips down to Mode, she was professional but it was better than the ice which had surrounded them. He had started to make up reasons to go to the offices, he suspected she knew this and the fact that she hadn't called him out on it strengthened that small chance he felt inside. Of course whenever he felt that chance growing stronger it was coupled by an intense guilt towards Amanda - whom he did not love but still cared for -, his unborn child and even Sawyer - who he had to admit was a good guy. Good guy or not though, he still wanted him shipped to an island somewhere.

"How's Amanda?" Betty asked brightly, trying to steer his thoughts away from Wilhelmina and back to his current domestic situation, which she knew he wasn't as committed to as he should be.

"She's fine…good, actually, I suppose."

Betty nodded. "Any morning sickness? She showing yet? Must be nearly 3 months along right?" She knew the answers to all these questions from speaking with Marc and Amanda, but she wanted to see if her friend was being as attentive.

Daniel avoided the question and stood up, smiling at her politely. "Betty…I should be getting on. I'll speak to Willie about the Creative Director issue as soon as I see her. I'm going to Mode now."

Inwardly, Betty chastised him, but she suppressed it and opted for a thoughtful sigh instead; she slipped back into employee mode. "While you're down there, you need to get someone to look at the light boards in the conference room, they keep shorting out and Marc needs them this afternoon."

He shrugged his suit jacket on over his shoulders. "I'm sure my Mom's on it."

Betty stood up. "Can I ask you something?" Daniel nodded. "What are you doing?"

"What?"

"Where do you see this whole thing ending up? You and Amanda, happily ever after? How is that ever going to happen when you're doing everything in your power to be in the same room as your ex? Amanda doesn't deserve that…neither does Wilhelmina. I love you Daniel but you need to stop messing around with everyone's feelings. Choose your place and stay there."

Daniel pressed his lips together in a firm line and nodded, Betty smiled softly, relieved that he was heeding her words, until he spoke. "Ever been married Betty?"

"Huh?"

He shook his head. "Simple question; ever been married? Ever found yourself loving the last person on this earth you thought you would ever love and then find yourself asking why you hadn't always been with them? Ever had that love snatched from you, so abruptly you forget to breathe? Ever been told to forget that you ever loved them and had people try and force you to be with someone you already know you can never have a successful future with?"

Betty looked at him, dumbfounded. "No Betty, you haven't. I care about you, and I know you think you're helping, but I haven't needed your pep talks in a very long time." He walked past her out the room.

"Let me deal with this my way."

_Where, where are the stars?  
>The one that we used to call ours<br>Can't imagine it now  
>We used to laugh til we fell down<br>The secrets we had, now in the past  
>From something to nothing, tell me<em>

Daniel strolled down the tube at Mode, he was no longer greeted by gawping stares and hateful glances when he walked the halls and he was glad, Mode was part of him. As he approached Wilhelmina's office, he once again found himself brought back to earth with a thud. Through the glass he could see her with her back to him and he could see the strong hands of the southerner rest on her shoulders as his body leaned in close to hers to whisper something in her ear.

His stomach fell a little when he heard her give a small laugh at whatever he had said to her, the laugh which only he used to be able to pull from her lips. Reality; they were over, she was with Sawyer and he was with Amanda, he could wish it away all he wanted but it wouldn't change. Betty's words rang back at him as he watched them through the glass, she was right and he felt like a jerk for how he spoke to her. He watched his wife, ex-wife, turn around and press a quick kiss to the other man's lips. Daniel smiled sadly and walked back down the tube, his earlier confident gait forgotten as he decided to let the woman he loved be happy.

Even if it meant he was miserable.

Inside the office Wilhelmina let her eyes stray to her husband's retreating form outside; she hadn't turned her gaze to him but she had felt him there and it had taken all her focus to emit a laugh at whatever Sawyer had said to her. In the past month things had gotten better between them, not anywhere close to how she and Daniel had been, but she was allowing herself to get closer. _Forcing herself._

She didn't want repeats of the night she had tried to fool Sawyer when she was in his arms, she didn't want to let Daniel in her head when it came to how she felt about Sawyer; but he was already in there. She could sense Sawyer was falling for her, she could see it in the way he looked at her, and she willed him to stop. She knew their feelings were not on the same level and she was pretty sure he knew it too. He was increasingly tactile with her, he was showing up at work more; he wasn't being possessive, but he was certainly making his presence known.

Holding onto him was probably selfish, but for once in her life she didn't feel strong enough to be alone. She would though, and she just hoped by that time she kept Sawyer in her life for the right reasons, not just because he was helping her heal. It wasn't totally selfish though, she did have feelings for him, was it her fault his were more evolved than hers? Willie could tell Sawyer knew of the differing ways they viewed their relationship and so she over compensated the only way she knew how.

"So you make sure no one is looking, reach up and pull the little handle on the left. Get in; close the door and I'll be there as soon as I can." She whispered, low, as she leaned into his muscular torso, brushing her smiling lips to his.

"A love dungeon?" He chuckled. "Are you making fun of me woman?"

She cocked her eyebrow. "Are you willing to take the chance that I'm not?"

He laughed and leaned his head back, stroking her arms. "Why do I have the feeling you're going to get a good laugh from the CCTV of me pulling all the hooks in that big stupid closet like a horny lunatic?"

She gasped. "Did you just call the closet stupid?" She mock scolded him. "Just go...I'll be there in ten."

He groaned, still not really believing her, but not willing to miss out in case it was indeed the truth. He kissed her quickly and walked out the office. "If you're pulling my leg I'll make you walk Hudson in the rain." He shouted over his shoulder, laughing.

Wilhelmina watched him walk the same exit route Daniel had only minutes ago and let her smile fall, closing her eyes. When did her life get so complicated? Was it before Sawyer? Was it when she was still married? Or was it way back when she first let herself imagine she could have a life with Daniel? Would it ever be simple again?

She hastily compiled the proofs she would need for her later meeting with Marc and the other fashion Editors and replied to her unanswered emails before setting off to meet Sawyer. She stopped in the doorway when she nearly bumped right into Marc's chest.

"I need you to sign these." He handed her a number of contracts.

She took them from him and walked to the desk. They were slowly getting their friendship back but it still wasn't close to how it had been and Wilhelmina was at a loss as to why. She hadn't in any way hindered his friendship with Amanda, although the vindictive part that still lived within her wanted to take everything that the girl held dear. The part that had mellowed, however, since she had allowed herself to be happy with Daniel, had stopped her from reverting to her old ways and she was willing to accept that Amanda would always be in Marc's life. She held the signed documents out and Marc tried to take them back, but she held them tight.

"Why are you mad at me?" She asked him.

Marc sighed, the question had been expected for weeks, and he dipped his head. "I'm not." He tried to take the contracts again but again she pulled them back in her own grip.

"Marc." She snapped with the tone she hadn't used on him in years. "Don't lie to me…not you. Shut the door and sit down."

"I'm busy."

"I said sit down Marc!"

He obeyed and closed the door, he knew that she wouldn't take no for an answer and the tiny bit of residual fear she would always evoke was still somewhere deep inside him. He sat on her chaise, cross legged and studied the vivid purple laces on his shoes.

Wilhelmina walked in front of him and placed her hands on her hips. She looked down at the positioning of her hands and realised the sternness of her pose and instead let them hang loosely by her sides. Marc was the last person she wanted to fight with now.

"I'll ask again, why are you mad at me?"

"I'm really not Willie."

"It's clear you are. You live in my house yet I hardly see you there, you work at my magazine yet I hardly see you here. You were the one person who kept me afloat and now you're distancing yourself…why?"

She saw him swallow and this time knew she was going to get her answer and the sudden worry that invaded her that he was going to ally himself fully with Amanda shocked her. She hadn't fully appreciated the depth of his friendship with Amanda and had not stopped to consider that losing him to her would be almost as devastating as losing Daniel.

"I'm not mad..." He started quietly and he saw her open her mouth to protest. "...but I was." He cut her off. "Now I'm just hurt."

Wilhelmina shook her head, confused. "Why?"

Marc lifted his head and looked her in the eye, there was no point dancing around it. "Why didn't you tell me Fey was alive?"

Wilhelmina's jaw went slack; she wouldn't insult his intelligence by pleading ignorance. "When did you find out?" She sighed and crossed her arms.

"A little over a month now...why would you hide that?" His tone was hurt and it pained and irritated her in equal measure.

"I wasn't hiding it from you. I had bigger things going on Marc, if you remember."

He stood up. "But Willie...you and Claire knew Mandy's mother was back before even she did, and you never let on that she was alive. This is screwing with Amanda's head in ways you can't imagine."

She laughed in disbelief and shook her head. "I don't care. I have to stand aside and watch her raise a child with the man I thought I would be with forever. I have to watch her give him the one thing I never could and you're telling me I should be worried about her feelings on top of that?"

Marc tried to find the words to explain to her why he was so hurt. "Okay fine, forget Amanda. I've been by your side for the past three months. I helped pick you up and put you back together. I helped you pull this magazine out of the hole it got wedged in because you were too much of an emotional wreck to do it. In the beginning I sacrificed both my professional and personal life to be there for you and you keeping secrets from me feels like a slap in the face."

Wilhelmina walked past him and sat on the chaise which he had vacated. "Marc...I can promise you, it wasn't about hiding it from you. When it came to Fey, you never even entered my thought process, I didn't want her to be back...I didn't understand the implications and when I was anywhere but in the same room as her I chose to pretend she was still dead."

Marc sat next to her, their shoulders touching. "Nothing's ever simple in this place is it?" He asked, staring upward with a rueful smirk.

She laughed. "No...but you love the drama...admit it."

Marc raised his hand. "Guilty, I am drama's whore." He chuckled, but then sobered. "Is she...is Fey just going to disappear again? Is she back? What's going to happen?"

Willie shrugged. "I haven't seen her in weeks, I don't want to, but Claire said she's still...lingering."

Marc wanted to lift the dark cloud in the office. "Maybe we should just blow the lid off the whole thing, tell everyone she's back. Who knows her resurrection might finally knock you and Daniel off the trending topics on Twitter." He laughed and bumped her shoulder.

"In that case absolutely not. I can't have people paying more attention to that withered old has-been than me!" She joked back.

Their forced laughter died away and Marc faced her solemnly. "I know we've always had a...strange relationship, but I think of you as one of my closest friends and you can deny it but I know you think the same of me. Can I ask you one thing?" She looked up at him. "No more secrets?"

Sighing, she took his hand and squeezed it. "No more secrets." She agreed. "But I need you to do something for me." He raised an eyebrow. "I need you to stop punishing Daniel...stop hating him."

Marc extracted his hand from hers. "Not that simple Willie, he hurt the two people I care most about...it's going to take some time. But I will be civil to him...for you...and for Amanda." He added softly.

Willie nodded. "Well I guess that's enough."

_How did we lose our way?  
>It's hard to remember, all that we shared<br>Now we both have separate lives  
>From lovers to strangers, now alone<br>There's no one catching my fall  
>No one to hear my call<br>It's like I never loved you at all_

_Well I'll be goddamned...it's real._

Sawyer had waited in the closet until it was empty, feeling like a fish out of water with the high fashion types milling around him, and had just stepped inside the opening which had presented itself when he pulled the lever, as Willie told him to do.

Amazed, he shut the door behind him and descended the small set of stairs, looking around the room. He took in the lustrous red drapes and didn't want to examine some of the other things he saw in the room, unless that was precisely why Willie had told him to come into this room, he smirked to himself.

"This is messed up." He chuckled, still taking in his surroundings.

"Is someone there?" A voice called from a part of the room, blocked from Sawyer's view by a small alcove.

Taking a few measured steps towards the noise, Sawyer fought to keep his eyes rolling, in the manner he had learned from his girlfriend, when the voice's owner came into view. "Daniel." He nodded once at the man who was perched on the edge of the bed, an array of magazines spread around him.

"Sawyer? What are you doing here?" He squeezed his eyes closed as soon as he asked that question. "Don't answer that...I know what you're doing here." He finished on a lamenting whisper.

"Uh...yeah...uh...Willie..." He pointed over his shoulder.

"I get it, really."

Sawyer nodded, aware that he had probably used this very room for the exact same reason with the exact same woman, many times in the past; it made him feel sordid. Sawyer was about to turn and leave, when his eyes caught one of the magazines spread open on the bed. "Oh my God...is that...is that Willie?"

Daniel followed his eyes to the open page and picked it up. "Yeah." He handed it to him. "They all are."

Sawyer took the magazine and sat on the bed, next to Daniel, staring at the younger face of his lover. "She looks incredible."

Daniel leaned on his knees, studying his hands. "Always did...still does."

Sawyer closed the magazine and looked straight through Daniel, clenching his jaw. "Dude...you need to stop this. She's with me, you're with Amanda, now I'm a patient guy...but it's being tested."

"You threatening me Sawyer?" Daniel asked, incredulously. Part of him really wanted to push his buttons, wanted to wind him up 'til he snapped and took his anger out on him; just so he could go to Willie and show him the mess her oh so perfect boyfriend made of his face.

"I'm just telling you to keep your distance. You and Willie...closed book, it's done. You're clinging to something that can never happen, that I will never LET happen. I know what I got, and I ain't losin' it to someone who didn't appreciate it enough in the first place to protect it."

Both men sat with their elbows on their knees, staring forward, speaking in hushed tones. "You don't know me Sawyer...and you don't know her."

"I'm getting there."

Daniel chuckled. "You've barely scratched the surface my man. I was with her four years and every time I thought I knew all there was to know about her, I'd learn something new."

"Well it's my job to learn these things now."

Daniel nodded. "I know...I know she's with you, I accept it...but don't think that means I'm ever going to stop missing her."

Sawyer bit the inside of his cheek, although he was fast reaching the end of his tether, he could still feel for the man. He had only been with her eight short weeks and already the thought of losing her was incomprehensible, what the hell must it be like for the man who had shared her life for four years? He reached behind him for another magazine, wanting to focus on anything but the conversation he was in the middle of.

If he weren't a good man, he would hate the person sat next to him; he would hate him for the pain he caused the woman he was falling for and he would hate him for the fact that no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't seem to erase him from her thoughts. He wasn't an idiot, he knew that these two still held a deep affection for each other and that in one way or another they would forever mourn the demise of their marriage. The fact that their lives would be eternally bound by the company they shared didn't help matters. If Wilhelmina was anything less than the formidable woman she was then he would suggest she give it all up, he would go back to Texas with her and live the life his father had wanted for him; but if she was anything less than the formidable woman she was he wouldn't be falling as hard.

Flipping through the pages, he stopped. "Hey, I know her." He pointed to a woman in the centre spread.

Daniel looked over and snorted. "I doubt it...but she was quite the icon, she had plenty of clones over-running the city back in her hay-day."

Sawyer shook his head, trying to recall where he had seen her. "No, I definitely know her."

"You knew Fey Sommers?" Daniel found it hard to believe they would ever run in the same crowds, but until 8 weeks ago he would have said the same about Sawyer and Wilhelmina.

A light went off in Sawyer's mind. "Oh is that her? Willie's old boss huh? I've heard her talk about her but she never introduced us when she was in the apartment."

Daniel's head shook and he pointed at the page, laughing. "That woman was not in Wilhelmina's apartment...trust me."

Sawyer pointed at it too, stabbing the picture of the woman on the sleigh with his index finger. "I'm telling you, that woman was sitting in the longue, bold as you're here right now...I know what I saw. Why wouldn't she be there?"

"Well for one, she and Willie were never exactly friends...and oh yeah, she's been dead seven years."

Daniel was smirking until he saw Sawyer turn to him with a completely unreadable look. Daniel's smile faltered just as Sawyer started composing himself. "Musta got it wrong then...obviously." He flipped the magazine closed and stood, running his hand through his hair nervously. "Guess I'll get goin', Willie's obviously got held up somewhere."

Daniel stood and watched him leave, unnerved by how sure the man had seemed and how quickly his demeanour had changed.

_Now you're so far away  
>And I see our stars is fading<br>One too many times  
>Guess it just got tired of waiting around<br>The night that we thought, if these walls could talk  
>From something to nothing, tell me<em>

Contrary to what Daniel believed about the elusive garnet ring, Amanda had not forgotten about it. True; she was becoming more and more frustrated with every passing day that he hadn't broached the subject, but she was so caught up in the fantasy of being Mrs Daniel Meade and parading their child around, that she hadn't noticed the increasing amount of time he spent at work.

The fact that he hadn't produced the ring as of yet had not deterred her from her path; in fact she was concocting more and more elaborate scenarios in her head. Maybe he was going to wait until their first night in their new apartment; he would get down on one knee outside their door and he would carry her over the threshold to start their life. Or maybe he was waiting until the baby was born; he would propose at the hospital, as she held their newborn in her arms and he leaned over to kiss both their foreheads.

She was perfectly happy living in her delusion, when she heard the door open and he stepped inside, a good six hours earlier than usual. She smiled at him but he walked straight past her into the bedroom he now used since Marc had moved in with Wilhelmina. Two minutes later he walked back out, looked at her and walked back in.

This happened several times, with Daniel darting in and out; he would point at her, open his mouth, he would bite his nails and screw up his face, he would begin to gesture and then stop, resuming the paving in and out of the room. Amanda smiled as she noted his nerves and felt the butterflies in her stomach multiply; this was it.

"Daniel." She smiled. "Let me save you and the thread on my carpet...yes." She beamed.

He stopped pacing and furrowed his brow. "Yes?"

She nodded. "Yes Daniel."

"Yes what?"

She walked over to him and placed her hands flat on the lapels of his jacket. "Yes Daniel Meade...I will marry you."

Daniel would never be proud of this moment, in fact he would look back and cringe, but his first reaction was one of hysteria and he burst into laughter, causing her pretty face to crease in confusion. "Amanda...I'm not proposing."

She dropped her hands. "Oh...no...have I ruined it?" She asked, worried she had scuppered his plans of a romantic proposal.

He managed to calm his laughter and removed the smile from his face; he didn't want to hurt her. "I'm not proposing Amanda…full stop."

She took a step back. "But, the ring…"

Daniel ran a hand down his face, regretting the words he was about to say before he even said them, knowing they would hurt her. "Was for Wilhelmina, I got it before Christmas. I'm sorry Amanda."

"You don't want to marry me?"

"No."

"You never did?"

"No."

She walked around and sat on the couch, on the edge, with her hands clasped on her knees. "I'm so stupid." She whispered.

Daniel walked slowly and knelt in front of her. "You're not stupid Amanda; you're just…getting ahead of yourself."

Amanda shook her head and Daniel could see the wetness shining in her eyes. "You're never going to want to…you don't love me."

He sighed and shifted until he was sitting next to her on the couch, he took her hand. "Amanda…Amanda, look at me." He waited until he faced her to continue. "Be honest…do you love me?"

With all her heart she wanted to say yes, she wanted it to be as simple as her loving him, him loving her and the two of them loving their child together; but she couldn't form the words. "No." She whispered.

"Then what are we doing?"

"Trying?"

He sighed and squeezed her hand. "And that's all we can keep doing." He stood before facing her again. "Amanda, it was Alexis who told me about your…ideas, you haven't told anyone else have you?"

She stared blankly ahead, still overwhelmed by the past few minutes. "No, I mean just my…never mind."

"Just your what?" He asked, a ball forming in his stomach. "Amanda, just your what?" His voice increased in pitch and volume.

"Nothing, no-one." She stood up and started to walk to the bedroom.

"Your mother?"

She stopped in her tracks and turned slowly to look at him; her eyes were dark and afraid and couldn't quite meet his. Her hands fidgeted at her side and she bit hard on the corner of her lip. Daniel began to shake his head, furrowing his brow.

Sawyer had been sure.

_How did we lose our way?  
>It's hard to remember, all that we shared<br>Now we both have separate lives  
>From lovers to strangers, now alone<br>There's no one catching my fall  
>No one to hear my call<br>It's like I never loved you..._

For the first time in over almost a month, Wilhelmina could honestly say she had enjoyed her dinner; not the food, God no, but the company. Marc had come home from the office at the same time as her in a long time and Sawyer had not been in the apartment when they arrived home. Marc had cooked, nothing compared to Sawyer's standards, but edible and with a low enough carb count that they could enjoy it guilt fee.

Marc had spent the hours during dinner, and drinks afterwards, catching her up on the office gossip that she would normally care nothing about but which she listened to willingly, just grateful to have him talking to her again.

Wilhelmina was placing their empty wine glasses when there was a knock at the door. "Lover boy just can't stay away can he?" Marc grinned while feeding Hudson the leftovers from his plate.

"Can you blame him?" She smiled as she walked to the door and shouted over her shoulder. "And stop feeding Hudson!"

She opened the door and the smile on her face froze. "Daniel?" Her eyes went to the ashen faced blonde at his side. "What are you doing here?" Her eyes narrowed at Amanda.

Daniel pushed past Wilhelmina, into the apartment, pulling Amanda with him, holding the top of her arm. "Call my mother." He snapped as he barged past.

"Daniel what the hell!"

"DO IT NOW!" He yelled, taking of his coat and throwing it in a ball on the floor. He placed his hands on his hips and shifted his eyes between his past and his present, neither of which in this moment he could think of as his future; too blinded by the lies to see anything else.

"Tell her to bring Fey."

_So now does he give you love  
>Oh, Is it only me now that's thinking of,<em>

_what we had and what we were  
>Oh, Did you ever care, baby was I ever there?<em>

In the forty five minutes which came to pass, none of them spoke to each other, not even Marc and Amanda. Daniel was still seething, Wilhelmina was shooting hateful glances at Amanda, Amanda looked terrified and Marc was simply observing the latest drama unfold around him.

Again, no one had tried to deny Fey's existence when Daniel had brought it up; knowing he must have already heard the truth from Amanda, and no one offered any sort of explanation.

When the knock came at the door, all four stared at it before Wilhelmina finally moved to answer it. Daniel heard the long forgotten voice before he saw her face.

"I do not appreciate being summoned! If I recall, that's what I used to do to you Wilhelmina!"

"And I appreciated it as much as you do Fey." Willie snapped back as she walked into the room, closely followed by two sets of heels.

Daniel felt his jaw go rigid as he took in the bob, sunglasses and Chanel; it was like going back in time. He paid no attention to the other woman who had joined them in the room, trying to keep his gaze on the one and only Fey Sommers.

"Oh, how nice, a party? For me? I must say I had expected something sooner, but better late than never." Fey took her glasses off, letting Daniel look in her eyes to assure himself she was real. "You have your father's angry face." She smirked.

"Don't…you…talk…about…my…father." Daniel snarled the words at her, making her laugh.

"My, my, haven't you grown up in the time I've been away?"

Claire suddenly rushed forward. "Daniel, darling, I'm sorry."

"Don't!" He raised his hand. "Not one of you chose to trust me with this." He faced his mother. "You; you're my mother, this woman did so much damage to our family it very nearly didn't recover. She tried to take my father away from his family and she would have let you waste your life in jail!" He whirled on Amanda, "You…you're having my kid! You say you want a life with me and you hide something like this! How can I trust you?"

He finally turned to Wilhelmina. "And you…you're the one person who isn't supposed to keep things from me…not anymore. I've spent the last three months of my life feeling guilty and killing myself with what I did to you…but you knew this bitch was walking amongst us and you said nothing."

Marc leaned forward. "Uh…I only found out a month ago."

He rounded on him. "Don't you go trying to be on my team now! Not after you have used every possible chance to tell me what a fucking scum bag I am…don't you dare try to be my friend."

Marc leaned back again. "Oh trust me, I'm not."

Out in the hall, Sawyer let himself in and bent to scratch the puppy who greeted him, behind the ears. He walked down the hall to where he could hear voices and he could feel the atmosphere within the walls was off somehow. He came to the door of the lounge and took in the faces of the six people dotted about the room. Daniel, Willie, Claire and the woman he had identified earlier that day as Fey, were all standing. While Marc and the blonde, whom he could only assume was Amanda, sat in opposite armchairs.

"Uh…Willie?"

The six people turned to face him and all looked unnerved, with the exception of the smirking older woman in the middle of the room. Wilhelmina walked over to him and placed a hand on his arm, drawing his attention to her. "Can you give us a while?"

He looked at her and nodded, unable to do anything else. "I'll take Hudson for a walk."

They all waited until they heard the door softly close before focussing back in the room. "Didn't want your boy toy to join in the fun?" Fey mocked.

"Leave him out of this." Wilhelmina snapped back.

"So why have you called this little pow-wow Daniel?" Fey asked, already bored.

Daniel regarded her, appalled. "How can you act so blasé? How can you swan in here after seven years and not take time to appreciate the impact that it will have on everyone? In one way or another you have brought misery to every person you touch and you choose now to walk back into our lives."

Fey laughed, actually full on laughed, "Oh Daniel…_your_ lives? You think _your_ life was ever of any interest to me? I came back purely to stop my daughter making the same errors with you as I did with your father…obviously my warning fell unheeded. I came back to stop Wilhelmina going down a path of vengeance and ultimately hurting my child, but she hasn't…she's grown; and I came back to tell your mother to reign in her god damn philandering slut of a son before he gave the only good thing I ever did in this world, a pitiful life with him…I was too late."

"Stop…right…there." The low growl came from behind Fey, Claire walked to her, her arms folded and a dangerous glint in her eye.

"Don't you try and belittle the people in this room because not a single one of us was happy to hear you were alive. Don't you try and make us feel small just to take away from the fact that you are about as needed here as a match underwater." She stepped further forward making Fey step back. "My son is trying to forget everything he held dear to atone for what he did and do the right thing by the woman you so laughingly refer to as your daughter. In what way have you ever been a mother to her Fey?"

"I gave her the life she deserved. _I_didn't force my children to grow up with a lush of a mother and a father who was in love with another woman!"

"My husband loved _me_ Fey…even you admitted as much to me. Bradford loved me, Amanda loved her adopted parents; your friends, family and employees couldn't bear the sight of you. So don't you DARE try and rip apart what little we have left of the relationships we have built since you left."

Fey's nostrils were flaring and Claire was smiling, leaning into her face. "I should have made sure it was you in that car."

Feys hand flew up and slapped Claire in the face. "And I only wish that god damn perfume had served the purpose for which it was intended."

Claire walked over to the stand next to Daniel and faced Fey. "Leave…you were never needed here and you _will_ _never_ be needed here."

Fey looked to Amanda. "My daughter is in the most difficult transition she has ever been in, she needs someone."

Amanda stood and walked to stand shoulder to shoulder with Claire. "I do…but not you."

Marc moved from his position in the armchair and took Amanda's hand, standing beside her. "She has me."

Fey arched her brow and swivelled to face Wilhelmina, standing alone behind her. "What a happy little family, don't you think? Come now Wilhelmina, you can't honestly tell me that you are going to stand idly by and watch your husband start a family with someone else?"

Wilhelmina looked at Fey and then at the four people standing in a line facing her. She smiled at Fey and Fey smirked back, recognising that malicious grin anywhere. Willie stopped right in front of her, speaking in a quiet voice. "I'll tell you what I told you daughter…get the fuck out of my apartment." She carried on walking and stood next to Daniel. "You don't scare anyone anymore."

Fey swept past the line of people before her and stopped at the door. "You'll regret this…one way or another."

The tension in the room did not dissipate even when Fey left them. Amanda rubbed her stomach and Wilhelmina averted her eyes from the sight, noticed by Daniel, Marc and Claire. "Can I use the rest room?" Amanda asked tentatively.

"Of course, I'm sure you remember where it is." Wilhelmina bit at her.

When Amanda slunk from the room, Claire instantly turned to her son. "Darling, I'm sorry, I swear it was never about keeping it from you…I wanted to tell you, bit you had so much going on. No one was supposed to know, not even Wilhelmina."

Daniel rubbed his hand over his mother's shoulder, his anger having evaporated after actually seeing the dead woman in the flesh. He understood her reasoning; he turned to Wilhelmina who still stood stoically at his side. Claire tugged on Marc's arm, leading him from the room.

"Willie…"

"I would have told you." She cut him off and faced him. "If I had found out about her when we were still…you know." She dipped her head. "I would have told you." She repeated in a whisper.

He brought his hand under her chin and gently made her look at him. "I know." He whispered back.

Out in the hall Sawyer stood soaking wet, with an equally dripping Hudson by his side, looking in on a world he would never fully understand and one which he could not hope to live up to. He felt a presence by his side and looked to the young blonde woman who was pale and wide eyed, watching the same scene he was.

"We're never going to win kid." Sawyer lamented.

Amanda didn't look at him; didn't even acknowledge he had spoken; she just walked into the room where the exes still held each other's eyes. "Daniel…I don't feel well, can we go home…please."

Daniel nodded, still looking at Wilhelmina. "Sure…let's go."

Willie forced herself not to watch him leave; she heard the door go and heard Claire's voice in the background telling Marc to tell her she was leaving too. Once she heard Marc's door close and knew everyone else had left the apartment, she walked to Sawyer. He handed her Hudson's lead. "I'm going to bed." He walked down the hall.

"Sawyer..."

"I'll speak to you in the morning."

_How did we lose our way?  
>It's hard to remember, all that we shared<br>Now we both have separate lives  
>From lovers to strangers, now alone<em>

Marc couldn't sleep; the heaters had gone from not working, to working too goddamn well. He was sweltering and he was worried about Amanda, she had been positively silent when she had been in the apartment and he hadn't had a chance to get her alone. He looked at the clock, it was a little after midnight, he knew she would be up right about now, she believed if she ate chocolate in the small hours of the morning her body was too tired to realise and the calories wouldn't count.

Padding, sleepily to the hall, he lifted the receiver of the old fashioned style telephone and dialled her number. She picked up straight away and he knew from her tone that something wasn't right.

"Mandy…what is it?" He asked worried.

"I went…I wasn't…" She was trying to catch her breath.

"Mandy, what's wrong?"

"I wasn't feeling well at Wilhelmina's…I went to the rest room…Marc." She let a sob down the phone and Marc paled, knowing exactly what she was going to say. "I'm bleeding."

"Ok, oh my god, ok, have you called your doctor?" He searched the floor for his shoes.

"I don't have one yet."

"What! Amanda you're nearly 12 weeks pregnant, your ultrasound should be due any day, how can you not have a doctor!" He shouted.

"I don't know…I'm just." She was panicking.

"Ok, it's ok…I'm sorry." He shouldn't yell at her right now. "Call the hospital."

"I did, they won't see me until tomorrow."

"WHAT! No Amanda, you're bleeding, you need to see someone NOW!" He silently cursed the phone he was using, needing a cordless as he tried to stretch across the hall and open the closet. "Okay, look, I'm on my way over...we'll go to the emergency room."

"Marc no, stay there. They said at this stage it's not uncommon for some spotting and because it's light they're not too concerned...just...will you come with me tomorrow?" She had never sounded so vulnerable.

"Of course I will...but doesn't Daniel want to?"

There was a pause on the other end. "I haven't told him, I don't want him to worry."

Marc sighed and closed his eyes. "Manda, as much as I wish he would disappear in a cloud of green smoke, it's his baby too."

She nodded even though he couldn't see it. "I know...and I will, once we come back from the hospital and I know everything is fine. Can you be here at one o'clock?"

"Sure and as soon as we are done, you need to get an OB/GYN, I can't believe you haven't got one Amanda, I may not be a girl or know about your..." He waved his hands about. "...lady parts, but even I know you should have one. Didn't your practise doctor refer you when you had it confirmed?"

"Just be here at one Marc." She answered.

Marc tilted his head; he wanted to ask her more but didn't want to upset her more than she already was. "Okay...try and rest...don't worry." He heard the call disconnect without her saying goodbye.

Now completely awake he knew he wouldn't sleep and he stepped into the kitchen for a drink and almost suffered heart failure when he saw Wilhelmina sat at the island; her hair pulled into a pony tail, her robe around her and a mug of tea in her hand. "Is she okay?" She asked, letting him know she had heard the entire call.

He nodded, still clutching at his rapidly beating heart, as he poured himself some of the tea she had brewed. "I think so, she said the hospital told her not to worry, it's common."

Wilhelmina nodded, looking into her mug. "It is."

Marc regarded her closely. "Willie...are _you_ okay?" He knew she had had a spat with Sawyer and hearing him talking to her ex's new partner about their kid could not have helped her mood.

She stood up and placed her mug down, tightening her robe before she went back to bed. "I'm fine...just..."

"Just what?"

"Just having a thought."

_Tell me how, did we lose our way  
>It's hard to remember, all that we've shared<br>Now we both have separate lives  
>From lovers to strangers, now alone<em>

They next morning, Claire had to admit she felt lighter than she had done in weeks. She no longer had the secret of Fey's return hanging over her and now that it was out in the open and everyone had made their feelings clear last night, she felt they could all finally move on and put the last three months behind them.

She had been feeling so good, in fact, that she decided to take a walk after her morning engagement. She was the benefactor of many charities and this morning had been photographed presenting a large donation to an underprivileged youth project down town. Walking alone in downtown New York was not something she would normally do; her outfit alone being worth more than most of the cars on the crowded roads, but she had a new spring in her step and she wanted to use it.

She casually stared in the small store fronts as she walked and she stopped, surprised when she saw another person who would not normally be seen in this neighbourhood, through the glass of the pharmacy she was passing. Amused by this bizarre encounter, she pushed her way into the store, past the drug store cosmetic stands and up to the counter, where the woman was putting her purchase in her purse.

"Wilhelmina?"

Willie turned around, startled at the voice. She had made sure to come at least five miles outside her usual zone to avoid seeing anyone she knew; and she runs into Claire Meade of all people. "Claire!" She did her best to sound pleased to see her.

"I was at a little presentation a couple of blocks back." Claire pointed over her shoulder. "What on earth are you doing here?"

Wilhelmina's eyes darted around and her mouth flapped, she longed for the days when lying was as natural to her as breathing. "I was on my way to a shoot...didn't feel very well...heartburn!" She answered, much too brightly. "If you'll excuse me, I'm running late."

Wilhelmina rushed past her out of the drug store; Claire watched her leave and furrowed her brow. She was lying, that much was for sure, she would never willingly stop her car in this area and even if she did, she would most certainly send her driver in to perform whatever menial task was required. Claire heard the store clerk shout over her, trying to catch Wilhelmina's attention but the other woman left the shop without a backwards glance.

Claire turned and saw the assistant had her hand outstretched as she tried to call after Willie. "Miss...you forgot your change!"

Claire smirked at the coins in the woman's hand; she doubted Wilhelmina would care much about what appeared to be fourteen cents. "I'll uh...I can give it to her...I work with her." She smiled brightly and took the change from her hand.

She waited until she was back on the sidewalk and out of sight of the drug store, before looking at the receipt in her hand.

"Oh my God."

Just when she thought things couldn't get any more complicated. She had just caught her ex daughter in law; Wilhelmina Slater, buying a home pregnancy test.

_There's no one catching my fall  
>No one to hear my call<br>It's like I never loved you at all_


	23. Wonderwall

**Wonderwall**

_Today is gonna be the day  
>That they're gonna throw it back to you<br>By now you should've somehow  
>Realized what you gotta do<em>

_In and out. In and out_. _Close your eyes. In and out._

She knew that if she focused on her breathing she would avoid feeling her legs giving out. So she stood, with her eyes shut, breathing as deeply as humanly possible, blocking out any minimal noise, blocking out the surroundings, blocking out any thought. Just breathing.

Her hands were clenched at her sides, one gripping tightly the small package she was holding hidden safely in her fist. She could even feel the stick, through the box, and for a second she was afraid she would snap it in two. But it didn't break. They never did.

Wilhelmina opened her eyes and stared ahead, knowing what had to be done. She had decided to do this, and she would do it. She was never one to back off, never one to give in to fear, and she would not be that woman now, of all times. If anything, this was the one time in her life she would always remember as requiring the most strength ever.

Today she would not think of the consequences.

So, she knocked.

_I don't believe that anybody  
>Feels the way I do about you now<em>

The light knocking coming from the door awoke Amanda. She had eventually fallen asleep just a couple of hours before, after a whole night spent up and worrying about what her body was trying to tell her with the suspect bleeding of the night before. She rubbed her eyes sleepily and dragged herself out of her bedroom. She took in the room and noticed it was morning already.

Ever so slowly she walked to the door when the knocking reprised.

"Yes, yes," she said. "I'm coming."

Not even caring of her wrinkled outfit, she opened up and for the briefest moment she had to close her eyes and open them again to be sure she was definitely awake. There, on her threshold, was the last person in the world she would ever expect.

"Wilhelmina," she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

"I have a present for you," Wilhelmina said, trying to look brave and determined when her voice was failing her miserably.

"Let me guess, a poisoned apple?" Amanda asked, glancing worriedly down at the package Wilhelmina was holding.

Wilhelmina's lips curved in a small smirk, surprised at the nerve Amanda was showing. "No," she said, calmly. "May I come in?" she asked.

Amanda looked over her shoulder, at the room, and then back at Wilhelmina, stepping aside to let her walk into the apartment. The woman did and Amanda closed the door behind her, not moving an inch, just watching as Wilhelmina studied the place. She was so nervous Amanda could see her hands shaking, and it was a sight she had never witnessed, not when it came to Wilhelmina Slater, the woman who had always the perfect self control and the perfect determination in every situation she had ever seen her handle.

"What is it, Wilhelmina?" Amanda asked, not feeling up to any sort of foolish game. "I am busy."

Wilhelmina dragged herself to the table and fixed her eyes on the two empty boxes of pizza. "I see," she drawled.

Amanda blinked, not enjoying the sarcasm in the woman's tone. "Why are you here?"

"As I said, I have a present for you."

"Pardon me, but I hardly believe it when it comes from you," the girl retorted. "Now, if you don't mind, I have stuff to do…_baby_stuff."

Wilhelmina swallowed when Amanda said the word, not missing the particular emphasis she had put on it, as if pointing out the fact that Wilhelmina would never again have a lot of _baby stuff_to take care of, or at least never with Daniel.

"In the last years, Amanda, I was under the impression you were growing," Wilhelmina said, taking off her jacket and throwing it carelessly over a chair. "I'm afraid I was mistaken."

"You should hear yourself," Amanda said. "You sound so much like Fey."

It was Wilhelmina's turn to blink at the accusation.

"What," Amanda continued. "Are you ashamed of what you are? Of what she created you to be?"

"Are you not?" Wilhelmina snapped.

There was a long minute of silence, in which the women stared each other down, both realizing in that moment how Fey Sommers had affected their lives, ultimately making them something neither wanted to be, not anymore. The abandoned child on one side, the corrupted protégée on the other side, they both stood, silent, contemplating what they might have been, had Fey Sommers never been in their lives.

"I'll ask you again, why are you here?" Amanda repeated.

Wilhelmina smirked, and Amanda saw the glint in her eyes: it scared her. The woman held up a white plastic bag and outstretched her arm, holding it up in between them. Amanda looked at the bag and then allowed herself a moment to look up into Wilhelmina's eyes and wonder what her motives really were. She took a few steps and closed the distance in between them enough to reach out and grab the plastic bag from Wilhelmina's grip.

She opened it and looked inside, feeling like someone had just punched her in the stomach.

"Is this a joke?" Amanda asked.

"Oh, I'm sure you know it's not."

Amanda reached inside and took the contents out. She stared at it and knew immediately why Wilhelmina had come all the way down to her apartment; she knew immediately why she was there, and what the outcome would be. Wilhelmina had put two and two together, and was now the living proof of what Amanda had tried to shove aside, never wanting to think about it.

"Let's take this pregnancy test, now, shall we?" Wilhelmina said.

_Backbeat the word was on the street  
>That the fire in your heart is out<br>I'm sure you've heard it all before  
>But you never really had a doubt<em>

"I have a tiny little problem."

Betty looked up from the stack of documents she had spread on the big circular table in the conference room, to see Marc standing on the threshold, arms crossed, looking as if he wanted to be anywhere but there.

"And I hate to say this, but I need your help," he continued, stepping over the threshold.

Betty leant against the table, tilted her head to the side, inviting him to go on.

"It's Amanda," he said, when he was within reach.

"What did she do, now?" Betty asked.

"She didn't do anything, but she needs me," Marc stated, leaning against the wall. "She needs a friend, and I can't leave because Wilhelmina is out and she asked me to take over the meeting with Versace's reps."

"What is my role in all of this, exactly?" the girl asked, knowing exactly what he was about to ask her.

Marc sighed and looked up, trying to work in the courage to ask Betty the umpteenth favor. "Could you… Betty, Amanda needs to go to the hospital."

"What?" she asked, growing concerned. "What happened, is she ok? Is it the baby?"

"We don't know yet," Marc exclaimed. "All we know is she spotted some…bleeding, yesterday. And I told her I would go with her, today, because she doesn't want to alarm Daniel. But she can't do this alone, she needs someone to be with her. And that someone should be me, but Wilhelmina…She asked me to do this thing, and it's huge. It's Versace, Betty."

"I'll do it," Betty exclaimed.

"No, no, no," Marc said, quickly. "Are you for real? As I said, it's _Versace_. We can't let _you_speak to Versace. It would be like letting Saddam speak to ONU."

"Saddam is dead."

"Not the point," Marc interrupted her. "I want you to go at Amanda's. I want you to be the temporary me, until I'm done here and I can join you. Will you do that?" he concluded, with a hint of hope in his voice. "Please?"

Betty stared at him for a few seconds, watching the inner battle her friend was secretly leading against his own conscience. He clearly wanted to be there, for Amanda, but at the same time he didn't want to disappoint Wilhelmina and put a big hinder in his career path. She knew, it was Versace, it was huge for someone who, like Marc, wanted to pursue a career in that world. So she understood why he had come to her, asking for help. It was the perfect halfway solution.

"Alright," she said, with a sigh. "When does she have to go?"

Marc shrugged. "She didn't tell me, so the sooner you get there, the better."

Betty turned to glance at the paperwork piled up on the desk. "Will you take care of that, too?" she asked, pointing at the papers.

Marc laughed. "No."

With that, he left the room, with a determined gait. Betty stood agape, shaking her head. "The things you do for friends," she muttered under her breath. She snatched her coat from the nearest chair and set out.

_I don't believe that anybody feels  
>The way I do about you now<em>

Amanda was still looking at the small object in her hand. "I don't know what you mean," she said.

Wilhelmina snorted. "Please Amanda, don't insult my intelligence. I've been pregnant before you, I know the drill. And most of all, believe it or not, I've been a young, hopeless girl in love before you, I know what it means to be ready to do _anything_in your power to tie the man you love to you. I can see what game you're playing at."

Amanda stepped back. "I don't know what you're talking about," she said. "I'm pregnant, and you better start and deal with it. Daniel and I are going to be parents. I can give him what you will never be able to, and that's why he chose to be with me."

Wilhelmina let out a mirthless laugh and took a few steps forward. "He _chose_ to be with you?" she said, unable to wipe away the little, satisfied grin when she noticed the girl's shaking hands. "No, Amanda. He was forced to be with you, because he's a good man. He has values, something that both of us, I'm afraid, are incredibly lacking of. You think he would have thought twice, had a baby not been in the picture? No. He wouldn't. Because he loves_me_. He always has, and always will. You will never be what I am."

"You're crazy," Amanda exclaimed, turning on her heels and heading for the door, but Wilhelmina was faster and in two quick, large steps she was right behind her and grabbed her by her shoulder, making her turn around to face her. "I want you to leave!" Amanda shouted in her face.

"You're hysterical," Wilhelmina stated, her voice low and secure. "I think I got the exact point of the whole situation, instead. You knew Daniel would never be with you, unless there was something that could bond him to you forever. You knew a kid was the one thing I could never give him."

"I did not," Amanda hissed, shrugging Wilhelmina's hands off her shoulders. "He's with me because I'm better than you."

Wilhelmina stepped back. "Take the test."

"No."

"I said take the test."

"I won't," Amanda repeated, adamant. "I won't give in to your little tricks. I know what you're capable of, you did it with Christina once and you'll do it again. You can turn things around at your pleasure, you can fake stuff and you cheat. I don't trust you."

"Fine," Wilhelmina said. "How about we see how Daniel feels about it?" she took out her phone and made a big show of dialing on the keyboard. Amanda sprang forward and laid a hand on Wilhelmina's phone. The two women looked at each other, and with that single gesture it was like a million words had just been exchanged. Wilhelmina lowered her hand and placed her Blackberry on the nearest table. Amanda looked at her feet, and when she looked back into Wilhelmina's eyes, her vision was blurry.

Wilhelmina saw the slow tearing up process in the girl's eyes, and in that moment she couldn't tell how she felt exactly. Part of her was angry, wanted to smack the girl down because hadn't the whole pregnancy situation come up so suddenly, maybe she would be with Daniel now. She had been ready to forgive him, that day, after the retreat. She had wanted him back, with all of her, when the news had fallen upon them like a cold shower, bringing them all back to the cruel reality of his cheating.

However, a small, almost insignificant part of her, but still loud enough to bother her, told her that she should feel sorry for the girl who was breaking down in front of her eyes.

"I'm sorry," Amanda whispered. "But I swear, it's not what you think."

Wilhelmina folded her arms against her chest and sighed. "Why don't you tell me the truth then?"

_And all the roads we have to walk along are winding  
>And all the lights that lead us there are blinding<br>There are many things that I would  
>Like to say to you<br>I don't know how_

Daniel stared into the fireplace of his big office, in the penthouse. He still couldn't tell what he felt, after the latest revelations, with Fey being back in their lives. He had been glad all the women in his life had sided with him, but he also knew Fey Sommers, and he was very well aware she was not like a fever: she just didn't go away.

He smirked bitterly: _the women in his life_. Never, in the last four years, had he thought he would go back to using that expression. He had been so sure Wilhelmina would be the one for the rest of it, never once had the doubt travelled across his mind that there could be another one.

There was Claire. Claire, who had been an angel to every one of them, never failing to help them, to talk them through their deliriums, to try and lead them in the right direction. There was Amanda, the little girl, the poor innocent soul whose only mistake had been that of dreaming too much, going ahead of herself. And then there was Wilhelmina, the only person in the world he knew he loved.

And then…there was her. He knew it would be a little girl, his daughter. He knew the baby Amanda was carrying would be a girl, he had felt it the other night when he'd been absent-mindedly staring at Amanda's stomach, wondering what it would be like once it started showing. Daniel hadn't told Amanda, but that night he hadn't slept, allowing himself for the first time to really think about that little creature that would show up in less than six months.

He had pictured her face, with blonde hair an big baby blue eyes, he had thought about what it would be like to feel her tiny hand wrapped around his finger, and he wondered if he would be able to make his daughter proud.

"Big boss," came the sweet voice that brought him back to the present.

He looked up and saw Betty standing on the threshold, studying him, coat in hand. "You going somewhere?" he asked, smiling back.

Betty bit the inside of her cheek, and shrugged. "Family stuff, I have to pick Justin up from acting school."

Daniel nodded.

"You ok?" Betty insisted, stepping into the room and walking to the desk. "I can spare a couple minutes for a pep talk, if you need one. You know I love those," she added, grinning.

"Thank you," Daniel said, chuckling. "But I'm not going to need one, this time. I think I'm fine. Maybe tomorrow."

Betty smiled again and turned to leave, when Daniel's voice, low and uncertain, stopped her.

"She's going to be beautiful."

Betty tilted her head and turned around. "Are you talking about Wilhelmina?"

Daniel shook his head. "No…I was talking about my daughter. I really hope she's a girl."

Betty didn't know what to respond, and the secret she was harboring weighed on her like a huge rock. She couldn't tell Daniel, no way. Not when he, for the first time, was showing the slightest affection for his baby. So she smiled, and nodded vigorously, hoping deeply there _would_be a baby in the future.

She opened her mouth to speak when a noise from outside caught her attention. Daniel heard it too, and leaned on the armrest to peek around Betty, at the door. They were surprised to see Claire running into the office, out of breath, seemingly upset. Daniel stood up immediately.

"What, Mum?" he asked, concerned.

"I need to talk to you, before you know from anyone else," Claire said, between deep breaths.

Daniel glanced at Betty, then returned his eyes on his mother. "What is it?"

"it's about Wilhelmina."

Betty saw Daniel's fists clench unconsciously at the mention of her name.

"Is she ok?" he asked, circling the desk hastily, and approaching his mother. "Something happened?"

"She…Yes, she's ok, she's fine…" Claire whispered. "It's not that…She's…I met her, this morning."

"And?" Betty chimed in.

"Daniel, please sit down," Claire stated, dramatically.

_Because maybe  
>You're gonna be the one who saves me ?<br>And after all  
>You're my wonderwall<em>

"I don't even know where to start…"

Amanda was looking down at her feet, her eyes wet and red. Wilhelmina was still standing in front of her, trying to shove away the feeling of hurt and sadness that was threatening to overcome her as the girl's words led her to a direction she had feared.

"How about the part where you stumbled into my apartment telling me you were pregnant?" Wilhelmina said. "Or how about the part where you tell me why you faked it?"

"I never faked anything," Amanda said, quickly. "I swear. I really thought…It was… It was just yesterday I realized…The bleeding wasn't…I wasn't…"

"Amanda."

Amanda took a deep breath and walked to the couch, where she sat down and buried her face in her hands; Wilhelmina didn't move, just keeping her stare fixed on her. The girl sighed and returned the woman's glare, her shoulders fell and Wilhelmina knew she was going to hear the truth.

"I thought I was pregnant," Amanda began, the tone in her voice so adult and mature Wilhelmina barely recognized it. "The signs were there. I missed my period, I was moody and I kept crying and…My first thought was that those might have been hormones, and so I just jumped to conclusions, because I was already- Wilhelmina, I caught the train as soon as I could, I _wanted_ to be pregnant. I wanted to be pregnant with Daniel's baby, because I knew that might be the only way to convince him I could give him something you never could."

Wilhelmina listened carefully, the castle crumbling down before her eyes.

"I didn't mean to hurt you. I didn't mean to break the two of you. I never intended to do any of this. I just misunderstood, I misinterpreted the symptoms. I really, really, _really_ thought I was pregnant."

"But then your period must have returned to normal."

"No, it didn't. I missed three periods. This would have been the fourth, but…clearly, the bleeding is not related to the baby. I knew, as soon as I saw it, it was not that. I understood, and I called Marc. I panicked, because I know I might not be pregnant after all."

"I'd say it's a safe bet to say you're not, Amanda," Wilhelmina said, blinking. Her hands were shaking, thinking back about that evening, the evening when she had decided she wanted Daniel back, but the chance had been taken away from her. Taken away by the sobbing girl standing in the same room as her right now.

"Do I have to take the test?" Amanda asked.

"It's pretty useless," Wilhelmina said. "You have to tell Daniel. And Marc."

Amanda tilted her head. "You mean you're not going to tell them? You're not going to start gloating, and you're not going to take Daniel back?"

"What you don't understand, Amanda, is that Daniel is not a property. He's not mine. I can't _take him_, just like you can't _take him_. He needs to go where he wants to go, where he knows he has a chance. And I'm afraid our chance was lost a long time ago."

_Today was gonna be the day?  
>But they'll never throw it back to you<br>By now you should've somehow  
>Realized what you're not to do<em>

"_Wilhelmina might be pregnant."_

The words still echoed in Betty's head as the taxi drove slowly through in the traffic. With her forehead against the cool glass of the car window, she was thinking about the implications, had such a thing come true. She thought back of the hurt and the pain in Daniel's eyes, the defeat she had read in them, the shoulders kept low as he stormed out of the room, earlier, leaving her and Claire looking at each other, impotent.

If there was one thing that had somehow balanced the tragedy of Amanda's pregnancy, it was the fact that everyone was well aware of the fact Wilhelmina could never give Daniel a child. But now, what would happen if Daniel had to raise his kid with someone else knowing he might have had a chance to have one with the woman he really loved? He would blame himself forever for losing that chance, he would be forever second guessing his choices, thinking back everything he had ever done. It was the final hit.

And that was the least, when one thought of the hurt he must be feeling, knowing he might witness Wilhelmina raising her kid with someone else. Daniel and Sawyer's relationship was rocky, but somewhat had established itself as a pacific one now that they were both resigned to the presence of the other. This, however, changed the situation drastically, and Betty didn't know if she, or anyone else, would be able to keep Daniel from punching Sawyer in the face for much longer.

She, like everybody else, had never thought the situation might present itself. Wilhelmina was a woman of a certain age, surely closer to 50 than she was to 40. What were the chances she might get pregnant? Surely not non-existent, but also scarce. And yet, fate had revealed himself for the unpredictable bitch once again, dropping another bomb on the already devastated soil of their lives.

The taxi slowed down and halted, pulling Betty out of her trance. The taxi glanced in the rearview mirror, and Betty looked out, up at the building she knew was her destination. Tipping the man off, she opened the car door and stumbled out, still in a haze. It was weird how the whole thing was taking its toll on everyone of them, in a different way.

She pushed the thoughts aside, ready to focus on the purpose that had brought her there: supporting Amanda. She hoped the baby would be fine, especially now that the _other_situation had arisen. She walked into the lobby and when she was at the bottom of the stairs she looked up, determination all over her features. It wasn't the end of the world. Things might still get better.

She took a first step up the stairs when she was startled by someone bumping against her.

"I'm sorry," she murmured, looking into the eyes of the stranger. She froze.

"Betty."

"Wilhelmina."

The two women stood there, staring each other down for an eternity. Wilhelmina was clearly not at ease, while Betty was positively confused, that being the least thinkable encounter, in that building.

"Uhm…how are you?" Betty tried, failing miserably to hide her surprise.

"Oh, hunky dory!" Wilhelmina exclaimed, plastering a big smile on her face. "Excuse me, I have to go now," she said hastily, and without a second glance she ran down the stairs.

When Betty turned around, the woman had already disappeared. Had she been hiding something? Why the hurry? Why did she seem like no one had to see her there? Why did she look upset?

"With my luck, she killed Amanda and I will be the only witness."

_I don't believe that anybody  
>Feels the way I do<br>About you now_

Daniel drummed his fingers on the glass desk that belonged to his wife. _Ex_wife. He stared blankly down a the mockup she had carelessly left in there, open at the letter from the editor: a blank page. She still hadn't written anything for it, and time was running out. They would go to print in two days.

He made a mental note to remind her Mode needed a Letter from the Editor, or else the magazine could not hit the stands that month. She could write about that new one-shoulder trend, or those feet-killing shoes she loved so much. Or maybe she could write about prenatal dresses, and how to look gorgeous despite a protruding belly.

The pain hit him worse than it had in the past hour and a half. It was clearly too soon to humor the thing.

The noise of clicking heels just outside the door made him looked up just in time to see Wilhelmina stop outside the office and talking to Marc, looking bewildered at something the boy was telling her. She shook her head, grinned and rolled her eyes, dismissing whatever argument it was, and turned around. When she saw Daniel sat at her desk she stopped on the threshold.

Wilhelmina looked around and stepped in, swallowing and looking down, trying to look unimpressed by his presence. She took off her white gloves and her coat, throwing them on the nearest chair and tried to sound polite when she asked him: "What are you doing here?"

"Whose is it?"

Wilhelmina's head snapped up and she ceased her every movement. "I see news go very fast," she stated, grinning. "Who told you?"

"It doesn't matter who told me," he asked, not getting up from her armchair. "Is it mine?"

"I don't know," she said, shrugging. "Does it matter?"

"You're kidding me, right?" Daniel asked, his eyes widening.

"It might be yours, it might be Sawyer's, actually it might be anyone in the office, as you very well know," she said, snorting lightly. "It's hardly a restricted area."

Daniel scrunched his face up, unable to understand the words coming out of her mouth. "What are you talking about?" he asked, unbelievingly.

"Oh, come on, it's not like you were the first one to get in there," she said, waving the question away with her hand. "Even your father used it, as far as we know it might even be his."

Daniel stood up slowly, as his head began to spin. "Wilhelmina, I think you're…"

"I'm nothing, it's just not that big of a deal," she insisted, placing her hands on her hips. "If it's yours, I'll have it dropped off at Amanda's, if it's Sawyer's, I'll take it home with me. Otherwise, I'll just leave it in the conference room for the righteous owner to take it back."

"I'm confused," Daniel whispered, pressing his index fingers against his temples. "How can you talk like that?"

"What should I do with it? Keep it as a souvenir?" Wilhelmina snapped, getting annoyed.

"Wilhelmina, we are talking about a child!" Daniel raised his voice, pointing a finger at her, the desk in between them.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," she exclaimed, raising her hands. "What? What are _you_talking about? A child? What child?"

"Your child!" Daniel exclaimed, pointing at her stomach. "The one you brought a pregnancy test for!"

Wilhelmina's eyes widened, as she put together the pieces of the confusing puzzle.

"That's right," Daniel continued. "I know. My mother told me. You left the receipt at the shop, and she took it. What I want to know is…It could be mine, right? We slept together, we didn't really take any precautions and-"

"Daniel, hold it right there," Wilhelmina chimed in. "I'm not pregnant. I… I can't be."

Daniel lowered his hands slowly, and tilted his head. "Really?"

"Yeah," Wilhelmina said, raising a brow. "You think you wouldn't be the first to know, if such a thing ever happened?"

Daniel fell back onto the armchair, closing his eyes and rubbing them, letting out a deep sigh. "Thank God," he whispered. He opened them again, and shrugged. "What was that test for, then?"

"A friend," Wilhelmina responded, not missing a beat.

"You have no friends," Daniel stated.

"Geez, that is so sweet," she deadpanned, sitting on the chair on the opposite side of the desk. "On the contrary, I do have a few people I can count on."

"Marc can't get pregnant, can he?"

Wilhelmina smirked. "He can't, as far as I know. But I wouldn't put it completely past him," she added, looking down.

"Who was it for then?" Daniel insisted.

"It doesn't concern you," she said, calmly, knowing he would only get more suspicious if she got nervous or snapped. "Was that the only reason why you came here?" she asked, deep inside hoping in a negative answer.

Daniel looked around and his eyes fell on the blank page on the desk. "The Letter from the Editor," he said. Wilhelmina followed his gaze and nodded. "We go to print in two days, you need to have it ready by the end of the day."

"Did I wake up in an alternate universe where it is plausible for you to boss me around?" she asked, smirking.

Daniel stood up and straightened his jacket, noticing how it seemed like a huge rock had been lifted from his shoulders. "I can always boss you around," he said, walking away, aware of her stare on his back as he left. "Oh, and, one question," he said, stopping on the threshold. "What were you talking about? What is it that might be mine, or Sawyer's, or anyone else in the office actually?"

Wilhelmina smirked. "Someone left a pair of boxers in the Love Dungeon. Marc just told me."

Daniel let out a small laugh and left.

Meanwhile, the light flickered.

_And all the roads that lead to you were winding  
>And all the lights that light the way are blinding<br>There are many things that I would like to say to you  
>I don't know how<em>

Betty simply couldn't compute the words that had just gotten out Amanda's mouth. The thought, the _only thought_ of it, it sickened her to the point where she couldn't even absorb them. It wasn't the fact itself, because she knew things like this happened. Stress might cause missing periods. Missing periods led to misunderstandings.

What worried her, right now, was Daniel. Daniel who was only now starting to get over the situation somehow, and only thanks to the strength he was gaining by his determination to be a goo father. How could she tell him, now, what she knew? Why couldn't Amanda jus leave her put of this, tell Daniel herself and leave Betty outside this mess?

Why had she come back to New York.

"Betty?"

The trembling whisper brought her back to reality, taking her from her regrets, and telling her something needed to be done, people needed to be told, reality had to be revealed to the people who were involved.

"Wilhelmina knows?" she asked, lifting her eyes to meet Amanda's. "That's why she was here, isn't it? She figured it out?"

"Yes," Amanda said. "But she's not going to tell Daniel about it. She told me I should tell him."

"She's right," Betty agreed. "That's the only thing to do. And that has to be done as soon as possible."

"Betty, are you mad at me?" Amanda asked, fearful.

"Of course not," Betty said, with a small smile. "It's not your fault. You were scared, you went ahead of yourself, and you just went to the first plausible thing. I think it would've happened to anybody, in your situation."

"And you think Daniel will be mad?" Amanda insisted.

Betty paused, looking away. She focused on the bedroom they were in, looking for a distraction that might give her an excuse to think about it, to reason and give her a good answer.

"I don't know."

In that moment they heard noises coming from the main room. The entrance door opened up and someone let themselves in, dropping the key on the table. They heard shuffling and the familiar vice shout out.

"Amanda, I was thinking we need to start thinking about the room for the baby!"

Amanda buried her face behind her hands. "Oh God, Betty, how am I going to tell him?" she complained, her voice muffled. "He will hate me."

Betty's heartbeat sped up noticeably with each step she could hear coming from the outside, drawing nearer and nearer to the room they were in, until they stopped and the doorknob turned, revealing a disheveled Daniel, with a tired smile.

"Oh, hey Betty," he exclaimed, surprised. "You staying for dinner?"

Betty didn't answer, and it only took Daniel mere seconds to understand something wasn't quite right. Amanda'' red eyes, Betty's avoiding eyes, it was all it took him to know Betty wasn't there for dinner.

"What happened?" he asked, the smile disappearing at once.

Betty took a step to the side, and at once Amanda stood up, taking a deep breath. "I need to talk to you, Daniel. It's important." Daniel nodded, stealing glance in Betty's directions, almost as if his friend might reassure him it would not be as bad as he was already sure it would be. "It's about the baby," Amanda continued, her voice unsteady.

Betty immediately recognized the clenching in Daniel's jaw, the steel in his eyes and the twitch in his lips, at the mention of the baby he was starting to get attached to.

"I'm sorry…" Amanda whispered, taking a few steps forward, fumbling with her hands.

Daniel looked down and his tongue darted out to moisten his lips, but his mouth was dry. "You lost it?" he asked, looking intently down at his feet.

Amanda looked at Betty and closed her eyes. "No," she whispered. Daniel looked up. "There never was a baby. I'm not pregnant."

_I said maybe  
>You're gonna be the one who saves me ?<br>And after all  
>You're my wonderwall<em>

The Slater household was quiet. Sawyer had been in the kitchen for over an hour, for their unexpected guest. Claire Meade had shown up, earlier, and eventually he'd insisted she'd stay for dinner, careless of Wilhelmina's doubtful stare. He'd left the two women alone, in the sitting room, sensing there was some tension in the air, and had thought they might use the privacy to talk.

But little did he know Claire and Wilhelmina had been sitting in silence for over twenty minutes. Sitting on the two opposite armchairs, they'd been sipping from their alcohol-free drinks, keeping their eyes on the clear liquid, none brave enough to look the other in the eyes for entirely different reasons.

Claire, who had shown up with the purpose to talk to her former daughter-in-law about what she had seen in the drug store, couldn't bring up the subject, afraid her fears might indeed be true. What if Wilhelmina had already taken the test, and already knew she was pregnant? Could she take it, knowing for sure she was bound to give Daniel such a news? It had been bad enough having to tell him there was a possibility such a thing was true, Lord knows how difficult it would be to carry the secret if it had really been the case.

Wilhelmina, on her part, felt the heavy weight of the just discovered truth, and feared her long-time frenemy might know just by looking into her eyes she was hiding something. She had wanted Amanda to have a chance to tell Daniel, and she meant to keep her resolution. She didn't want to have a role in all of that, she wanted out. She had wanted out for a long time, yet things kept falling over her making it impossible to detach herself from the whole matter. To make things worse, the sleeping beast that lay inside her heart, the same that had awaken once after the retreat, was once again at work, making her think back about her decisions, making her wonder things she couldn't afford to wonder about.

Hudson lay at Wilhelmina's feet, his eyes closed but awake, as Wilhelmina has learnt to tell by the dog's breathing pattern. He was subtly paying attention to whatever sound happened to reach his ear, whatever movement she made causing him to lift his head and look around in alert.

"He seems to be really fond of you," Claire said, at a certain point.

"Hudson?" Wilhelmina asked. "Yeah, some people make that mistake."

Claire smirked. "You have a low esteem."

"On the contrary, I think of myself very highly, which is why I consider it a mistake to be fond of me," Wilhelmina said, not missing a beat. "Why are you here, Claire?" she asked, deciding it was time to stop playing mind games.

"Visit you?"

"Bullshit."

"You know me too well."

"That's what you get after twenty years of repulsion and four years of a somewhat peculiar friendship," Wilhelmina retorted. "Is this about Daniel?"

"As funny as it might seems, no, this is not about Daniel," Claire explained, moving the glass in her hand and watching the liquid swirl into its container. "It's about you. It's very much about you."

"What is it, then?" Wilhelmina insisted, placing the glass onto the coffee table.

The noise of cutlery coming from the kitchen made them both fall silent, both unconsciously afraid Sawyer might hear their conversation, as if they were talking about something deeply scandalous.

"It's about this morning," Claire started again, lowering her voice.

Wilhelmina nodded, knowing what was to come, after the tantrum Daniel had thrown the afternoon.

"I know you bought a pregnancy test," Claire continued.

"And you thought you had to run and tell Daniel, instead of asking me what it was," Wilhelmina stated, looking dead into the woman's eyes.

"No, I- he told you?" Claire asked, taken aback.

"He did," Wilhelmina confirmed. "you thought he would keep it to himself? Come on, Claire, you know your son, deep inside you had to know he would need clarification, and he would come looking for it."

"I expected it, but I hoped- never mind, it doesn't matter now. What matters is…Did you, I mean, are you-"

Claire stumbled over her words, working the courage to actually say the word, but Wilhelmina beat her to it.

"I'm not," she said, pursing her lips. "That test was not for me. And you knew it might never be for me. If I had been able to have children, maybe, we wouldn't be in this situation, now. Maybe, if I had been able to have children, we- I don't know, maybe things would be different. But I can't, I will never be. That's the end of the story. Not with Daniel, not with anyone else."

Claire nodded. "I'm glad. Not that you can't- it's just-"

"Stop this, Claire. I don't need explanations. You went in aid of your kid. It's normal. I'm a mother too. I might never be one again, and I'm not much of one now, but I've been a mother. You did what you thought was right."

They fell silent again, somewhat more comfortable than before, when a ring shook them both. Claire looked around and reached for her purse, locating the sound. She rummaged and took out her phone, watching the ID of the caller on the screen.

"It's Daniel," she said, getting up and excusing herself. Wilhelmina watched her back and strained to hear bits of the conversation, but two manly arms enveloped her.

"Everything ok?" Sawyer asked her, whispering into her ear.

She turned her head to the side and forced a smile, nodding. Sawyer kissed her lightly and stood up again. Wilhelmina looked up and felt a pang of guilt when once again the thought of Daniel crossed her mind, despite the attention of the new man in her life.

Hudson looked up and wiggled his tail, looking happily up as Sawyer bent and patted him on the back. Wilhelmina lost herself watching her two _boys_, unable to keep a smile from appearing on her features. She stretched her arm out and placed her hand on Sawyer's shoulder, squeezing it lightly. Sawyer looked at her and smiled. For the night, Daniel was out of her system.

But then something happened, that made her turn around in time to see Claire running to the couch and grabbing her coat.

"I have to go," she said, out of breath.

"What?" Wilhelmina asked, confused. "What happened?"

"I have to go," the older woman repeated, heading for the door.

Wilhelmina sprang to her feet, her hand leaving Sawyer's shoulder and followed Claire into the hallway. "Claire, what happened?" she insisted, irritated by the woman's actions. "Claire, for God's sake, is Daniel ok?"

Claire turned around dramatically. "There's no baby."

Wilhelmina rolled her eyes. "Yeah, I just told you this. I meant what-"

"No, it's not you," Claire interrupted her. "Amanda's. There's no baby."

"Oh," was the only thing she could say.

Claire shook her head and turned, opening the entrance door. She turned briefly on the threshold and stared at Wilhelmina.

"There's no baby," she repeated, almost trying to pass a message.

"That doesn't make any difference," Wilhelmina said, getting what she was trying to tell her.

"That makes all the difference in the world," Claire said, and before she turned around Wilhelmina was ready to swear she'd seen a smile appear on the woman's face.

Maybe Claire was right?

_I said maybe  
>You're gonna be the one who saves me ?<br>And after an  
>You're my wonderwall<em>

Fey had never thought much about a comeback. Never once had she really desired to come back into the world she had been so adamant to leave, never once had she lost any sleep over the possible reaction of the people who had been a part of her life. But the rejection of her daughter had burnt her more than she was ready to admit.

She hadn't been foolish to think it would be a lovely reunion, with flowers, and rainbows, and tears. She knew her daughter might hate her, she was ready to the possibility. But truthfully, she hoped she wouldn't. She hoped Amanda would be glad to know she was alive, glad to know she had a mother.

No, she wasn't a mother. She had never been a mother, she didn't even know what it meant to be a mother. And now that her daughter was about to become one, she was as cut out as she had always been.

Outside, destined to watch the life of the only person she might care about go on without a chance to have a role in it. She downed the last bit of red wine and stood up to get some more when she heard the insistent knocking at the door. She remained on the spot, silent: she wasn't expecting anyone, and neither did Julia, who had been asleep for over an hour.

She walked very slowly to the door, careful not to make her heels click on the floor. She leaned into the door and spied through the peephole; then, she backed off, bewildered. She opened the door, not doubting a second, and narrowed her eyes.

"What are you doing here?"

Claire Meade stood on the threshold, arms folded against her chest. "Good evening, Fey."

"Lower your voice," she hissed, stepping aside to let the other woman in, but Claire didn't move. "Come in, you idiot."

"I'm not here to have a lovely chat with you," Claire stated. "I'm just here to tell you that once again you Sommers revealed yourself for the big disappointment you really are."

Fey tilted her head, confused, and looked anxiously around. "Come in, I can't stay here on the threshold, people might see me," she insisted.

"I don't want to come in, Fey," Claire chimed in, shaking her head. "I'm here to inform you, because I know your daughter won't, seeing how she hates you."

"What has Amanda to do with this?"

"She's not pregnant, after all," Claire said, with a grin. "Looks like you really raised her to be one upright child there."

Fey looked down, as the words sink in. "Is she ok?"

"Do you even care?"

"Opposite to what you may think, I do," Fey said, recomposing herself immediately in the moment she stared into Claire's eyes.

"She's shaken, upset. But she's going to be fine," Claire said. "As long as you stay away from her. She doesn't want you around, she doesn't need you around to screw up her life."

"I'll let her decide what she needs and wants."

Claire smirked and turned on the spot. Walking to the elevator, she stopped when she heard Fey clearing her throat.

"You know Claire, I'd forgotten how funny it was to watch you Meades destroy your own lives."

Claire closed her eyes and spun around, pointing a finger at the loathed former Editor. "I wish it was really you, in the fire, that day."

Fey grinned, devilishly.

"You never know who will go first, Claire."

_Said maybe  
>You're gonna be the one that saves me<br>You're gonna be the one that saves me  
>You're gonna be the one that saves me<em>


	24. My Last Breath

**My Last Breath**

The dinner Sawyer had prepared lay untouched on the counter in the kitchen, not unusual in itself, but this time for a highly different reason. Sawyer had watched her from down the corridor as Claire had exchanged hurried words with her and dashed from the apartment. Willie had stared at the closed door for several minutes, unaware of Sawyer's presence, and he knew if he had been able to see her face it would have shown no sign of the argument she was waging inside her head. He had stood to the side, out of sight, as she had turned around and headed down the corridor. He watched her until she was out of his view and he heard the faint click of her bedroom door; that had been almost an hour ago.

He knew that, once again, she was weighing her options. He hated thinking of himself like that; _an option_, but that's precisely how women like Wilhelmina thought and that's precisely what he was. He just didn't know how much longer he would remain the most viable one, Daniel's stocks were up and his own seemed to be plummeting with each passing day.

He had always thought of himself as a good man, the one to always do the right thing even if it were to his own detriment. The right thing to do this time would be to stand aside, he was now the only obstacle in the path of reconciliation between the woman he loved and the man he knew she loved more than him; if she even loved him at all. She'd get there though, he'd make sure she did.

This time there wasn't a snowball's chance in hell he would do the right thing, not if it meant losing her. Sawyer stood outside the bedroom he shared with the woman inside, more often than he slept in his own bed, and after a fresh intake of courage, he opened the door. He would fight, he would fight for her with all he had, but he still had to know.

"Does it?"

She was sat on the bed, facing away from him, perfectly still. His silent entry into the room should have made her jump when she heard his deep drawl; she didn't flinch, she had been waiting for him.

"Does what?" She didn't turn to face him.

For one of the first times since he had been with her, he could feel himself growing angry with her; angry for making him say it. "Does the fact that your ex-husband, who trampled all over your marriage and left you feeling bereft, is not in fact having a baby with the woman he cheated on you with...make a difference."

On the bed, Wilhelmina closed her eyes and for the thousandth time asked herself the same question, the one she had been asking since she first had her suspicions about Amanda's pseudo-pregnancy. The tone in Sawyer's voice and the words which he had used to ask the question told her he would not be fobbed off by her 'not wanting to talk about it' or trying to distract him with her usual method of diversion.

"No." The lie tripped of her tongue easily, of course it made a difference, it brought them right back to where they were after the retreat; when she was ready to let him back in her life. There may be no baby anymore, but one thing _had_ changed; Sawyer.

She had told him, that very night, that she would be with him, only him. She had agreed it was time to get her ex out of her system and move on with the man who had fallen for her, against all expectations.

Sawyer wanted to press her, find out more, find out the truth about how she was feeling but he knew he would more than likely not like what he would find. She would say she had chosen him, and she was right, she had. But had she chosen him because she wanted to be with him or because she didn't trust that she might not get hurt again if she chose Daniel?

Without going to her, without even looking her in the face, Sawyer nodded from his position at the door and walked away. Today he would settle for hearing what he wanted to hear.

_Hold on to me love  
>You know I can't stay long<br>All I wanted to say was I love you and I'm not afraid_

Betty watched through the glass, gnawing on her bottom lip, as Marc drew his meeting to a close. From the wide smiles and enthusiastic gestures, she surmised it went well. She smiled, it felt good to do that after the numerous upsets she had experienced today. Marc was good at his job – no,_exceptional -_ Wilhelmina could not have had a more willing or able protégée, and Betty felt awful that once again her friend's mood was about to be compromised thanks to the thoughtless actions of the people he cared about.

Everyone she cared about was in pain, Daniel had lost the chance to be a father to a child he had only just accepted. Amanda had lost the family she had imagined so vividly in her mind. At least she knew for certain that Wilhelmina was not pregnant with Sawyer's child; that was one saving grace in all this hurt, she wouldn't have to watch Daniel fall apart even more. And here she was, and Marc, stuck in the middle; like they always were when it came to Daniel and Wilhelmina.

As the impressed representatives filed from the room, Marc caught Betty's worried glance and his eyes widened. She tried to give him a reassuring smile but it must of come out as more of a grimace. Upon seeing it, Marc lowered his head swallowed; preparing himself for what he was sure would not be good news.

Betty sharply tilted her head to gesture at Marc to join her in the hall; she felt painfully sorry for him when she saw him shake his head, unwilling to hear what she had to say and feeling guilty for not being with Amanda when she received whatever news it was that made Betty look like that.

Betty walked in the room and closed the door quietly, leaning against it. "Marc..."

"She lost it didn't she?"

Betty shut her eyes, both she and Wilhelmina had told Amanda that it would be better if she told Marc herself. "Marc...just go and see her."

Marc nodded. "Have they kept her in?"

"She's at home. We...uh...we never went to the hospital."

Marc stopped packing up the files on the table. "What...but...Betty...why?"

"Just go see her Marc."

Marc dropped the stack he was holding onto the table with a loud thump. "Will someone for once, JUST ONCE, stop making me play guessing games and run all over the god damn city and just tell me what is going on! I would have thought you-"

"She's not pregnant Marc." Betty cut him off.

"You mean..." He rubbed his face and opened his mouth to continue, but something in Betty's eyes stopped him; he studied her face. "No you don't mean that do you? She didn't lose it did she...there was nothing to lose, was there?"

Betty didn't answer, she didn't need to. Marc grabbed his bag from the seat and without another word, ran from the room.

_Can you hear me?  
>Can you feel me in your arms?<em>

"How could you not...I mean...Amanda how could you _think_ you were pregnant."

Daniel was hunched over on the sofa, his elbows resting on his knees and his fingers pressed painfully on the bridge of his nose, still trying to assimilate what she had said.

Amanda felt sick, she was shaking and she felt hot yet cold at the same time. Daniel had been calm, too calm, and she was waiting for him to explode. In truth she wanted him to, she needed him to, she needed to see something other than the blank canvas he had been presenting thus far. She spoke evenly, stressing her words as if explaining to a child in the simplest terms she could. "Well, I missed my period and-"

Daniel jumped up and stuck his hand out abruptly, halting her. "Okay, fine, that's logical, I get it. But isn't that the stage when any rational person would go and get a pregnancy test? Why Amanda? Why did you never get a test? How could you tell me something like that without knowing for sure?"

"It wasn't how I planned it. Daniel I swear, if there's one thing you believe in all of this then let it be that. It all got out of hand. I went to Wilhelmina's and I asked to see you, she saw me...she just assumed Daniel!"

"And you didn't think to correct her!" There it was, the explosion she was waiting for. "Do you know what you've done? Do you know why I was on my way to her apartment that day?" Amanda shook her head, biting her lip. "She was taking me back! She was finally letting go of the fucking idiotic thing I did with you and I was going home! And you had to look for me there didn't you, you had to make sure she knew, had to rub her fucking nose in it."

"I'm sorry."

"No Amanda, you're not, if you were then you would have taken the fucking test to begin with and none of this would have happened. What were you going to do when it came to Doctor's appointments, sonograms...giving goddamn birth!" Daniel stopped, brought the flat of his hands together and brought then to his lips as a though occurred to him. "Is this why you've been trying to get me back into bed? Why you've been trying to seduce me at every opportunity? To try and get pregnant? Thought old dummy Daniel wouldn't notice if the dates were out by a few months huh?"

Amanda jumped from her position leaning against the table. "No, God Daniel No! I swear, it never entered my head. I thought there was a baby, I promise you. I tried to bury the doubts as far back as I could, but I wasn't trying to trick you."

Daniel looked at her, dead in the eyes; he knew this girl. He knew that no matter how much she loved playing the snippy little bitch when she had worked at Mode and been part of the dastardly duo that was Marc and Amanda, it was an act, this woman did not have a malicious bone in her body. He should hate her, her lie had put up an insurmountable barrier between him and Wilhelmina, he should hate Amanda so much his skin should burn with the fire behind it; but he didn't. He couldn't, not when he knew the girl behind the lies was alone, scared and, dare he say it, damaged? He didn't feel hate, but he felt a multitude of other things; sadness at losing the chance of a child he had finally been willing to accept, anger that he had been lied to, but most of all, he couldn't deny he felt a sense of relief. He was relieved he would not have to look in the eyes of a child of his creation and every day see the mistake he had made, he was relieved that he was not going to be a father.

The guilt he felt at this realisation eclipsed any hatred he could possibly feel to the woman before him.

Slowly he walked to her and for a devastating second he saw fear in Amanda's eyes. When had he become the type of person that the people in his life felt threatened by? He saw her relax as he brought a hand up to her shoulder and pulled her towards him, she stepped into the hold and allowed him to hold her; to say goodbye to their mistake once and for all.

"I'm so sorry Daniel." Her voice was muffled by his chest.

He brought a hand on top of her head. "I know." He released her.

"Where will you go?" She asked him.

Daniel shrugged. "I don't know...back to my Mom's I suppose."

Amanda took a deep breath and squeezed his bicep, forcing him to look at her. "You should go home...to her."

Daniel chuckled. "I think that bridge burned a long time ago."

"Daniel...can I ask you something?" He nodded. Amanda knew the answer to what she was going to ask, it hurt her, but she needed him to realise it too.

"You said you thought...you thought Wilhelmina might have been pregnant too-"

"Yeah but-"

"Let me finish." Daniel shut up. "You thought she was pregnant too...and there was a chance it was yours, a slim chance but a chance." He nodded, unsure of where she was going. "What are you more upset about? Losing the chance of a child with me that you've known about for months and had time to get used to...or losing that almost non-existent chance, the chance you knew of for only a couple of hours, that you might have been having one with her?"

"I think you know." He whispered.

She nodded and tried to smile through the wetness building in her eyes. "I do...but she has to know too."

Daniel shook his head at her, almost in wonder. Amanda had made no secret of the fact she wanted him and held an intense dislike towards his ex for the hold she would forever have over him. "What are you doing Amanda?"

She took a deep breath and blew it out through pursed lips, determined not to cry as her dream of a family disintegrated. "Trying to make things right."

Daniel smiled and walked away from her, he picked up his jacket from the kitchen table and his eye caught the white plastic bag. Picking it up, he looked inside and screwed his face up at its contents before widening them in comprehension. He looked at Amanda, realization dawning. "The test...she said she bought it for a friend."

Amanda forced a small laugh. "Friend? A little generous considering what we've been through...but yeah."

Daniel looked from Amanda, to the small package in his hand and back to Amanda. "She knew..." He whispered to himself, eyes glazing as he looked down again. "She knew and she waited for you to tell me...she could have told me straight away, used this to hurt me...Amanda she..." He finally looked back to Amanda who offered him a watery smile.

"...still loves you." She finished for him.

Daniel's hopeful smile broke Amanda's heart, she knew she didn't love him, she knew that it was for the best that there was no child; but she couldn't help mourning the future she had lost. She wanted someone to love her the way she could see Daniel loved Wilhelmina.

As if he could read her thoughts, Daniel smiled wider at her. "You'll get there Amanda, you're young, you have plenty of time. One day you will have a baby and it will be with someone who loves you. One day you will be someone's everything...you deserve it."

She shook her head. "I broke up a marriage, I lied, I-"

Daniel laughed. "Amanda, Wilhelmina has done all that and more...it doesn't stop her being _my_ everything."

Amanda snorted. "You know I've worked so hard trying to force myself to love you I forgot how god damn sappy you can be."

They smiled at each other, both glad the mood had lightened and that they were parting on more amicable terms than either thought possible. "I should go."

Amanda nodded and he walked to her again, hugging her once more. He could feel her tense in his arms and her hands clinging to his back; knowing she had to let go but not wanting to, fighting back tears. He brought his mouth to her ear and whispered, opening her floodgates. "You _do_ deserve it."

When he stepped back this time, he did not turn to look at her, knowing she would now be in tears. As he opened the door it was to find Marc hurrying along the hall. "Where is she!"

Daniel opened the door wider for him to see Amanda in the middle of the room, he took in her sorry state. "What did you do to her!"

"Nothing Marc...go to her, she needs you. Marc..." He lowered his voice to a whisper. "...she needs help."

Marc looked in his eyes and for the first time since this all started, he did not feel the spark of all consuming anger when he did. All he saw was his genuine concern for the woman inside that apartment. Marc nodded in assent and let Daniel pass him. "Daniel?" He called after him, the other man stopped and turned.

"You're going to her aren't you?" Daniel thought about telling him to mind his own business or not answering at all, instead he nodded. "You know this may not change anything...she still has Sawyer to think about."

Daniel bit his lip and looked down, when he raised his head again, Marc saw he was smiling. "Gotta take chances Marc...life's too short...God Amanda's right, I am sappy." He rambled happily to himself as he walked away.

Despite himself, Marc smiled at his retreating form. He turned and walked inside the apartment. With no words, he took Amanda by the hand and walked to the couch. He sat down and pulled her onto his lap, like they always used to do for the other when one was upset. She tucked her head in the nook under his chin that had always felt custom made for her and let her tears run. Marc turned his head and rested his cheek on top of her soft blonde hair.

"I...thought..." She hiccupped.

She didn't need to finish the sentence, he knew what she was thinking; that he would leave again. That this last lie-stroke-misunderstanding, would be the final nail in the coffin and he would walk away and never look back.

"Never again Mandy." He whispered. "I'm here."

_Holding my last breath  
>Safe inside myself<br>Are all my thoughts of you  
>Sweet raptured light it ends here tonight<em>

When the knock came at the door, Sawyer knew who it was from the very first tap, he knew before the night was over they would get a visit he could do without. Opening the door, his suspicions were confirmed. "Go away man." He said, noncommittally, knowing the simple request would be unheeded, but he still tried to close the door in his face. He clenched his jaw when the hand flew out to stop it.

"Five minutes...let me talk to her for five minutes." Daniel asked in his most cordial tone, resisting all temptation to forcefully remove the man from his path.

"And just why should I do that?" Sawyer was fighting down a similar instinct and stuffed his clenched fists in his pockets, eyeballing Daniel with hostility.

Daniel shrugged. "Fine, maybe you shouldn't. I sure as hell wouldn't if I were in your shoes, but I think you should at least tell her I'm here...she's a big girl, let her decide on her own."

"She's not here."

"Where is she?"

Sawyer laughed, not his usual deep throated chuckle, but a hollow bitter sound. "You expect me to tell you so you can go find her and tell her to leave me...for you? A man who cared so little about her that he almost destroyed her for the sake of a quick fuck?"

Daniel pulled himself up to his full height and stared back at Sawyer with as much animosity he could. "I'm gonna let that one go, because I know you're in a bad place right now, but for the record; just because you're screwing my wife, don't you ever pretend you know what went on between us or underestimate how much I care. I know you must feel like you're in limbo right now-"

Daniel was cut off by a deep, booming laugh from Sawyer. "Limbo? You do hear yourself talk right? You know how you sound? You hurt her Daniel, she chose me...not you. Let's not pretend you weren't an option just because of this so-called baby your mistress was carrying. We both know that had Willie said the word, you would have been back at her heel regardless. I know it, you know it, _she_ knows it, and she picked me. I asked her tonight if anything had changed and she told me no. I'm still her choice Daniel...deal with it."

In his mind's eye, Daniel saw himself launch at the man in front of him, who was in his way in more way than one, and flatten him into the dark wooden floor. He settled, instead, for clearing his throat and remaining as calm as the situation would allow. "If that's the case then you should have no problem telling me where she is, shouldn't make a difference if I talk to her or not."

Sighing deeply, he shrugged. "She's out with Hudson."

Daniel's head jerked upward, eyes widening slightly. "Wilhelmina has _willingly_ taken a dog for a walk."

"Yep."

"On her own?"

"Yep."

"In the city at night?"

"Yep."

"In heels?"

"You ever know her to go without? Anyway, that's where she is, I dunno where she's taking him, she just said she needed out for some air, feel free to go look." He tried to shut the door again and again Daniel stopped it.

"I'll wait."

Sawyer blocked his entry. "Not gonna happen."

Daniel didn't remove his hand. "Look pal, this was my home for a hell of a lot longer than you've been here. In any case, you don't let me in then I'll just wait in the hall and you'll have to explain your petty ass attitude to Willie when she comes back and sees me sitting here while you stew inside like a little boy."

He watched the words sink in to the other man's skull and in one move Sawyer swung the door open violently with one hand and walked away, letting it hit on the wall behind. Daniel caught it before it could ricochet closed and stepped inside.

He kept his distance from Sawyer who was stomping down the hall with his hands on his hips, looking up every now and then, obviously fighting to contain his anger. He quickly lost whatever battle was going on inside his head. He swung round, mere feet away from Daniel and threw his hands up in the air. "Why the hell are you doing this, to me, to US?"

"Sawyer you've been with her for about five minutes. There's barely been time for you two to be an us."

"Because you won't fucking let there be! You have any idea what it's like, living under your shadow? I try and show her, try and show her what we can be and every goddamn time I think she sees it too...you show up and fuck with her head."

Try as he might, Daniel couldn't help the sanctimonious feeling that washed over him. Sawyer was a good guy, and he was handsome to boot, the fact that he could make him feel threatened certainly boosted his ego in the right direction. "I thought you said you were secure...you keep saying she chose you didn't she?"

Sawyer nodded and slowly sauntered towards Daniel. "Yeah...yeah she did and after tonight, after you've said whatever pathetic thing you're gonna say to her to try and convince her to take you back...when she knocks you back, you never darken this door again, you hear me?"

Daniel smirked, the false amicability he and Sawyer had previously maintained, well and truly gone. "One question first. Why do you think she chose you?"

"Because she knows she's safe with me, she knows I'd never hurt her like you did."

"And you're happy with that are you? Being with someone only because they think you're _safe_. She's with you because she feels obligated to be. I'm not denying you're a good guy Sawyer, hell I'd probably buy you a beer under different circumstances; and I'm not denying you've been good to her, _for_her. But you're the fall guy, her safety net. You'll never have the fire she had with me." Daniel stepped further into Sawyer's personal space. "So yeah, she might have chosen you; you might be the one in her bed, in her home..." Daniel brought his hand to his head and tapped his temple with his finger. "But can you be happy knowing that you might never be the one who's in here?"

The next thing Daniel knew, he was seeing stars and had fallen back against the wall. Sawyer's fist had connected with his jaw and he could taste the tang of his own blood filling his mouth from where his lip had split on impact.

"SAWYER!"

Daniel squeezed his eyes together tightly and then blinked rapidly, trying to clear his vision and see the source of the other voice. When the blurriness cleared all he could make out was Sawyer, still looming over him; his jaw and fist still clenched rigidly and his face was red and contorted with anger.

Moments after, he felt two familiar cool hands gingerly cupping his face to avoid placing pressure on the wounded area. He still winced as his head was tilted and grimaced even further when he attempted to smile as his eyes met the foudroyant blues of his ex wife.

"Oh my God...Sawyer, get him some ice...SAWYER!" She yelled when her boyfriend didn't move from his spot.

Daniel moved his head away, the pain starting to set in now and his jaw throbbed under Wilhelmina's hands, as Sawyer stormed off in the background. He felt Hudson running around at his heels, pulling at his pants leg. "Daniel...damn it lemme see." She held his face tighter and tried to see through the mess of blood dripping on his features.

Sawyer returned and she snatched the ice pack out of his hands without looking at him and pressed it to Daniel's mouth. "It looks worse than it is...WHAT THE HELL WERE YOU THINKING!" She shot over her shoulder at Sawyer.

"He-!" Sawyer started to reason is actions.

"My fault." Daniel interrupted. "Needed to talk to you."

Wilhelmina continued to press the ice to his burst lip, but averted her eyes from his captive stare. "We have nothing to talk about Daniel."

"Yes...you do." Sawyer's voice was quiet behind them. "I'll take Hudson out."

"He's just been out." Willie answered him in a soft voice, still looking at the floor between her and Daniel's feet.

Sawyer snatched up the lead and stormed to the door, wrenching it open. "Then I'll take him out again!" He shouted, and with a slam of the door he was gone.

The silence in the apartment settled over them like a blanket. Daniel watched the muscles in Wilhelmina's throat work as she swallowed and kept her eyes steadily on the mess she was trying to soothe on his face, avoiding his eyes at all costs. Daniel slowly brought his hand up and held her wrist lightly, stilling her. "Wil." His voice was almost imperceptible but still resounded in the stillness of the room.

Gradually she moved to look up at him, when their eyes met it was as if an entire conversation had taken place between them. "Nothing's changed Daniel." She told him in the strong voice she had been practising with.

He nodded, still holding her hand and bringing it down to their sides. "Yes it has Willie...take me back."

Wilhelmina took a step backward, extracting her hand from his and took a large gulp of air. She shook her head and walked away from him. He followed her into the kitchen and watched her dispose of the ice pack in the sink. She braced her hands on the edge of the counter and her shoulders hunched.

"Wilhelmina...there's no baby. There's nothing in our path now."

"It doesn't matter."

"Damn it, yes it does Willie! Are you really going to deny that you were going to take me back, until Amanda made her little announcement?"

"It doesn't matter." She repeated, her voice straining.

Daniel walked to her and held her by the elbow, turning her to face him. "Why are you being like this? You were the one who figured it out, you were the one who went to Amanda and brought this all out in the light. You wouldn't have done that if you didn't care."

"I never said I didn't care Daniel, I said it doesn't matter."

Daniel shrugged in exasperation. "How can it not? What do you want me to say? Amanda is not pregnant."

"But she could be." Daniel heard the cracks appearing in her voice.

"What?"

Willie shook her head rapidly and looked up into the light, away from him. "She could give you what you want...or not her, whoever...you can still find someone who can give you...what I can't."

Daniel took a step back, his mouth flapping in shock. "Are you seri-Willie we went over all this before we got married. I wanted you more than I wanted any kid, you know that."

Willie just continued to shake her head. "Back then maybe, but now...Daniel, you thought you were going to be a father, that seed got planted in your head and from now on it will continue to grow until it's all you can think about."

"You're wrong."

"I'm not."

Daniel's panic set in, this was not going how he had foreseen and his voice began rising in speed and pitch. "Well then we...Willie we can do it."

"No we can't, you know I can't." She told him with a sad smile.

Daniel pointed at her. "No, it's not hopeless, you said that yourself, just difficult. Anyway even if we can't do it on our own, there are options."

"No there's not...not for me. I don't want any more Daniel, I have been nothing but a terrible mother and the very thought of starting all over again...I don't want a kid Daniel, but I can't take that experience away from you. It was selfish of me to expect you to give up on it in the first place, I won't do it again."

"You didn't ask me to do anything, I made that choice on my own and I stand by it, I'm only bringing up options because I want to show you that the only kid I would ever want would be with you, but if it's not to be then it's not to be. You don't want one, fine I can deal."

"Daniel you want to be a father."

"I want to be your husband!"

"Well you can't be both...I'm making the choice for you."

"I can make my own choices and I choose you!"

Wilhelmina sniffed and looked in his eyes. "This is exactly the same argument we had three years ago. I let you make the wrong decision then, I won't do it now."

"So I'm supposed to give up the life I want for the child I might never have?"

She nodded. "One day you'll thank me."

"Oh spare me! Don't give me the 'you'll thank me' speech. You know not once, since I came here have you said you don't want me back, just that it's for my own good. Not once have you told me to leave you alone because you're fine without me, that you're happy with Sawyer."

"Are you?"

The question from behind them startled them both, Sawyer had returned and was pleading Wilhelmina with his eyes to answer his question.

"Answer the man Wilhelmina." Daniel prompted her.

Wilhelmina stared at Sawyer, willing the words to spring from her mouth, to wipe the hurt from her lover's face. "I can't do this." She stormed past the both, out into the hall and felt them both follow her.

"Willie." They called her name at the same time and she turned to face them both, her hand halfway to opening her front door, her eyes flickering between the two.

"I can't." She whispered at them and slipped through the door, leaving them alone, staring after her.

_I'll miss the winter  
>A world of fragile things<br>Look for me in the white forest  
>Hiding in a hollow tree<em>

There was only one place she would end up, she knew it and she knew they knew it; she only hoped they would have the presence of mind to realise she wanted to alone and not follow her to Mode.

This was when she really loved Mode, when it was empty; this was when it really felt like _hers._People would think she was mad, but this was when she could hear it speak to her; she could hear the voices of those long departed, in one way or another. She could hear Fey calling 'Wanda' into her office, snapping at her, belittling her but ultimately moulding her into the woman she was to become.

She could hear the determined footfalls of Bradford Meade, echoing down the tube and she could practically see him fidgeting with the buttons on his jacket as he steered himself towards his mistress' office. Claire's throaty cackle and razor sharp barbs came fresh to her mind as she walked down the tube. She stopped at the large doughnut shaped desk and could see Marc and Amanda frolicking behind it, during simpler times. Even the high pitched call of Betty Suarez filtered through her mind as she walked the halls. Looking through the glass wall that led to her and Daniel's offices, she smiled, almost able to see their transition play out before her eyes. Fighting and dominating, changed into compromise and then evolved into something neither of them thought possible.

She was about to walk into her office when she heard a noise coming from somewhere in the far reaches of the office. Most people would be frightened at hearing someone in the large space they thought was deserted; not Wilhelmina. She brazenly strutted through the halls until she reached the closet.

"What are you doing here at this time?"

"I have an auction tomorrow night and I forgot to sign out a dress...you?" Claire reached up and grabbed a pair of shoes to match. That neither was surprised to see each other in the office at this time, spoke volumes about what their relationship had become, how accustomed to each other they were.

"Escaping the rock and the hard place I'm stuck between."

Claire nodded. "I'm guessing one half of that analogy is my son?"

When Claire didn't hear her respond, she looked up and saw Wilhelmina was nodding, but not looking at her; instead her eyes were glazed as she played with the fringe on a silk purse hanging on a nearby mannequin.

Claire sighed loudly, getting her attention, and dumped the garments on the table in the middle of the closet. "Why aren't you with him?"

"What?"

Claire laughed. "Don't play dumb Willie...you're many a thing but never that. Why aren't you with Daniel?"

"It's...complicated."

"No Willie it's not, it's the simplest thing in the world. He loves you, you love him, there is nothing in your way. You should be with him."

Wilhelmina laughed. "Claire Meade; championing the devil to be with her son."

Claire smiled at her. "Oh I started championing it long before now."

Wilhelmina rolled her eyes and swiped at the purse, making it swing back and forth. "Yeah, yeah, I remember the wedding...your little speech."

She started to walk around the table, all the while staring at her rival-turned daughter in law-turned friend. "No...longer." She told her quietly.

Wilhelmina tilted her head in curiosity. "When?"

"I don't know." She shrugged. "I just know that when I knew I had to come to terms with it I realised I had already done it."

"Dear God, I know where Daniel gets his Hallmark quotes from now."

"I'm just telling you how it was...I'm being your mother in law."

"Well how about you stop it and just be my friend...words I thought I would never say. Although most normal people would help their friends drown their sorrows in booze, I guess I'll have to make do with grape juice if I do it with you...you old lush" She teased, a throwback to the old days.

Claire bit her lip and walked to a deep shelf in the corner of the closet and reached her hand inside, moments later she withdrew two small bottles and handed one to Wilhelmina. She snatched it and peered at the label. "Beer?"

"I grabbed it off a cart at the last office party...you and Daniel were keeping too close an eye on the Cristal."

Wilhelmina fixed her with a reproachful glare. "With good reason obviously!"

"It's just these two I swear." She held her hands up. "Now shut up and drink it, I won't fall off the wagon...I can be good."

Wilhelmina cracked the top off the bottle and, not seeing a usable seat anywhere, slid down the wall to sit on the floor. Claire walked over and joined her, sat next to her. Claire Meade and Wilhelmina Slater sat shoulder to shoulder on a hard floor drinking beer was not a sight many would ever think to see. The thought of what they must look like occurred to them both at the same time and they shared a laugh. Claire reached over and clinked the neck of her bottle against Wilhelmina's.

The two sat in easy silence, drinking from the lukewarm bottles of flat ale. "This is disgusting." Willie laughed.

"I haven't drank since Christmas, Wilhelmina, this is like mother's milk." She gazed off into the distance, lost in her thoughts, in memories. She laughed. "Do you remember before you and Daniel got married, before he forced us on those lunches, do you remember your shower?"

Wilhelmina groaned and Claire laughed as they both recalled the disastrous attempt at a Bridal shower she had thrown under duress. Daniel had been whisked off to Reno by some old college friends and felt bad for leaving Wilhelmina with no plans and forced his mother to organise something. "Oh my god...that was...an experience." Wilhelmina shook the images out of her head.

"An experience, Wilhelmina Slater after kicking and stamping your feet in protest that you didn't want, and I quote 'a god damn bridal shower, I'm not a fucking girl.', you drank almost everyone under the table and very nearly ended up in a police cell after you, Marc and Amanda..."

The pair stopped laughing and Claire trailed off at the mention of 'the other woman'. "Yeah...I remember." Wilhelmina finished.

Again the quiet began to descend. "What do you want Wilhelmina? What would really make you happy?"

Willie took a deep drink from the bottle and looked upward, shaking her head. "I just want it all to be simple again."

"With Daniel?"

She shrugged. "I don't know." She lied easily, used to it by now. "Why, what do you want?"

Claire looked at her profile, studied it until she turned to face her. "I want my children to be happier than I ever was. I want them to be with the one person they know they can't breathe without. I want..." She shook her head, not quite believing her own words. "I want you to be my daughter in law again. I never thought I'd feel or say this in a million years...but I kinda miss you." She bumped Willie's shoulder.

"Careful old woman, don't want to break a bone." Wilhelmina said, trying to gloss over Claire's heartfelt words with her quip. She stood up and extended her hand to help Claire up; the older woman took it and pulled herself up, ignoring the crack in her bones as she ascended.

"And there goes the hip." Wilhelmina joked.

Claire brushed off her clothes and placed her bottle on the table. "Think about what I said." She smiled and started to walk away.

Wilhelmina watched her go; this woman had gone from being a thorn in her side to friend and so much more. No one would have blamed Claire if she had completely turned her back on Wilhelmina when she and Daniel split, in fact, most people expected it. She had done so much to the woman walking away from her and not once did she cast it up to her since she had welcomed her into her family. She may have been married to Daniel, but it was Claire who made her feel like a Meade.

"Claire!" She called out to her, composing her face as she watched her spin back to face her. She took a deep breath. "Thank you."

Claire smiled at her and Wilhelmina hoped her friend knew just how much she was thanking her for.

_I know you hear me  
>I can taste it in your tears<em>

Fey sat in the high backed armchair in her sister's study. Julia was out for the evening and the vast house was completely at her disposal; but she preferred to sit in the small room, watching the log fire roar in front of her.

She ran her finger over the tip of her brandy glass, her wide eyes reflected the flames dancing in front of her. She had been sat there for hours, silently ruminating over the events since her return; letting the conversations wash over her.

_No one's afraid of you anymore_

_I wish it had been you in that fire_

_You should have stayed dead_

As the melee of voices echoed in her head, her anger seethed. She was Fey Sommers, she was the most feared woman in the business. She commanded respect from everyone unfortunate enough to cross her path. Had all that been forgotten when she 'died'?

Her ungrateful daughter, her eventual successor, her long time rival and her idiot son, even the prissy little boy her daughter was so fond of; none of them seemed to remember just what she was capable off.

She smirked as she stood up, staring into the fire, knowing what she had to do.

It was time they remembered.

_Holding my last breath  
>Safe inside myself<br>Are all my thoughts of you  
>Sweet raptured light it ends here tonight<em>

After Claire had left her alone in the closet, Wilhelmina had wandered to her office and now sat at her desk, lit only by the light of her laptop screen. Finishing her letter from the Editor took her mind off the two men she had left back in her apartment. Striking the keys methodically and typing out her gospel to the masses was exactly the kind of activity she needed right now; consuming enough to distract her from the relentless dramas in her life, but familiar enough that it didn't hurt her head.

She paused, thinking of her next line; she hated pausing, the second she did all she could see was the imploring looks of both Daniel and Sawyer. She could remember the hurt and worry on them, she could remember the feel of Sawyer's strong arms around her when she woke that morning and remembered longing to feel the same from Daniel when she had stood mere inches away from him that evening.

She brought her hand to her cheek as she recalled the way Sawyer's stubble had rubbed against it as he nuzzled her awake and how she had been tempted to bring her lips onto Daniels as she had nursed the bruise on his cheek. She dipped her head and squeezed her eyes shut as she thought of what she might have done had Sawyer not returned.

Would she have regretted it?

Pushing the unwanted images and thoughts aside, she puffed out her cheeks and exhaled a long breath, returning her attention to the screen. She poised her fingers over the keys when she heard a noise in the distance again. Closing the top of her laptop, she walked through the office in the dark, she could navigate these halls blindfolded if needed. "Claire?" She called into the darkness, already sure it couldn't be her, she had left ages ago.

Adjusting her eyes to the dim light as she walked, she could see the conference room, closet and offices branching from the tube were empty; but she could still here the noise. Something about it was familiar, it unnerved her; subconsciously she already knew what it was but refused to admit it to herself to stave off the fear she felt swallowing her with every step.

With deep even breaths, the way her father had taught her to do when she was scared, she forced her legs to move to the elevators. She pressed the button and nearly let the hysteria overcome her when the button didn't light up and the small display read 'out of service' _Of course it was_.

She turned on the spot, she could feel the fine layer of sweat building over her skin as the fear began to seep in through her defences. She should be running, anyone else would, but not everyone else would have the same crippling phobia she did; the only one she had, the one very few people knew of.

She picked up the phone at the reception and was met with a dead line, in her haste to get away from Daniel and Sawyer she had forgotten her phone. The rational part of her, in control for now but not for long, made her run to her office and lift the lid of her laptop again. Somehow she managed to locate her emails; she could still contact someone.

_No Networks Available._

Her feet barely lifted off the ground as she made her way to the stairwell, each move was deliberate and laboured; from the stepping of her feet right down to the normally automatic process of breathing. The recess of the office, where the door to the stairwell was set, looked darker and more ominous than anywhere else in the office and she knew why; she knew it was because of what was creeping under the door.

Suddenly she was sixteen again, suddenly she was back in her bedroom at her parent's house after being expelled yet again, suddenly she was at the mercy of a vindictive and damaged eight year old who resented her big sister for being home and who had snuck into her room in the dead of night to show her just how much her presence was unwanted.

Her breath was coming short and sharp now, trying to stop herself from running and curling up in the smallest, safest place she could find. Her hand reached out for the door handle, praying to anyone listening that she wouldn't find her worst nightmare behind that door.

No one was listening.

The door swung open under her touch and instantly the thick plumes of smoke billowed from the depths of the stairs beyond. The air seemed to heat instantly and she struggled to take gulps of air. _Why hadn't the alarms gone off? Why hadn't the fire doors sealed?_None of that mattered right now, all that mattered was that she had to get out of there and the only way to do it was down these stairs.

She could wait it out, the fire department would be here soon; someone will have seen the smoke. _27 floors up on a dark night_. A loud bang caught her attention and she jumped, spinning round. The noise came from the elevators, the metal doors were buckling, the heat was so intense. Between the gaps the buckled metal had created, she could see the first glimpses of the bright orange and red that gave her nightmares for years. She couldn't stay here, it was coming.

_Get it together Wilhelmina, get it together or you won't get out of here._

Inhaling as much clean air as possible she moved into the suffocating stairwell, she could hear the crackling grow louder and her terror that she may actually have to go through fire almost made her run back to the sanctuary of her office, until she heard more clattering coming from the elevators. She brought her hand to her mouth and peered over the edge of the stairs, she couldn't see down to the bottom because of the smoke but she also couldn't see any flames which probably meant the fire itself was contained to one of the floors below.

The smoke pricked at her eyes and she felt them begin to stream, she descended the stairs and which each breath she felt as if her throat was on fire. Wilhelmina gripped the bottom of her dress and ripped a strip of material from the garment, for once in her life not caring about fashion or expense, not when her life was on the line. She crumpled it and brought it to her mouth, breathing through it. The further down she got, the harder it became to breathe and the dizziness set in. Reaching out to steady herself on the stair rail, she recoiled in pain when her hand touched the scalding metal. She must be close to the fire, she thought, ignoring the searing pain in her hand and the scorching of her lungs every time she was forced to inhale the smoke.

She couldn't see, she couldn't breathe and the smoke was only becoming thicker and blacker, she could now hear the fire blazing above her. The blackness was closing in as she fruitlessly tried to make her tiring body flee.

They say in these situations that your life will flash through your mind, she thought of Daniel, Sawyer, Marc, Nico, even Hudson; Daniel's face was the one who dominated her head as she felt her knees give out. The ground came up to meet her and one last thought flitted through her mind before the world went black.

_They would never know her choice._

_Closing your eyes to disappear  
>You pray your dreams will leave you here<br>But still you wake and know the truth  
>No one's there<em>

Daniel had checked himself into the Four Seasons, he couldn't bring himself to go back to his mother's quite yet. He knew she would fill his head with hope that he and Wilhelmina would be reunited; knew that was what she was hoping for almost as much as he, since the news of the baby had been proven untrue. He couldn't let his head be filled with such hopes, not when he feared they might be false.

His phone beeped for around the fortieth time and for the fortieth time he ignored it. The call would most likely be from Betty, she had tried calling several times that afternoon, no doubt wanting to know his state of mind after his recent news; yet another person he couldn't deal with quite yet.

He flipped through the channels aimlessly, not paying attention to anything he saw. Soccer, some show with fat people trying to fit into too small wedding dresses, A badly shot action film and yet more reruns of a late night cartoon. He scrawled through the directory until he located Fashion Buzz and turned it over.

Suzuki St Pierre was standing on the sidewalk; a closed caption image was on the screen next to him. Daniel screwed up his face; that looked like the image he had taken to be an action film on the other channel. He flipped back over and his stomach dropped, it wasn't a film, it was the fucking news. He changed to three different news channels, each baring the same image; the view from a helicopter as a building burned, his building, _their building._He switched it back to Fashion Buzz hurriedly and grabbed his phone, looking at the screen he saw that the calls had not been from Betty, they were from Marc.

He called for a car and barked into the phone when someone answered. Hanging up he briefly returned his attention to the screen. He needed to get hold of Wilhelmina, they needed serious damage control. Daniel was halfway to the door when the blood froze in his veins at the sound of Suzuki's voice.

_The security fled the scene and alerted the authorities as soon as it became apparent that all electronics were down in the building, it was only then that the severity of the fire was gauged as no alarms had been activated. No news yet on possible victims, but an insistent rumour..._

"No...no...no no no please no." Daniel whispered.

_...suggests Co-Owner and Editor in Chief of Mode magazine, Wilhelmina Slater, might have been removed by fire fighters, apparently unconscious, around thirty minutes ago. No news yet as to how-_

Daniel was out the room and running, he bounded past the elevators and set of the fire alarm as he pushed through the doors to the stairs. The siren could not be heard over the hammering of his heart. Coming out on to the sidewalk, he saw no sign of his car. He sprinted to where a cab had stopped and pushed past the person trying to get in it.

"Hey!"

"FUCK OFF!"

He shouted the name of the hospital and tried to return Marc's call. Each time it went to voicemail. "FUCK!" He screamed each time, hitting it off the headrest in front of him as if this would somehow make the call connect. He tried this the entire ride, until they pulled up outside the E.R. doors. Daniel threw an amount of money at the driver. It could have been three dollars, it could have been a thousand.

He bolted from the cab, leaving the door open in his wake and ran into the Emergency Room. "Wilhelmina Slater!" He shouted to anyone who would listen. "Someone...Wilhelmina Slater! Where is she!"

"Sir please calm down." A petit brunette asked him from behind the nurse's station.

"I'll calm the hell down when someone tells me where my wife is!" He yelled in her face.

She sighed, used to dealing with abuse in the E.R. "Name?"

"Wilhelmina Slater." He drummed his hands on the console and looked up and down the halls, expecting her to materialise.

He turned around to see the nurse shaking her head. "No one has been admitted by that name."

"Check again, they said...check again!"

"SIR! There is no one in this hospital by that name." She confirmed. "If her injuries were minor, she may have been seen to without admission and released already."

Daniel felt his whole body sag in relief, she wasn't here. Could she be in another hospital? No, this was the closest to Meade by far. The weight which lifted from his chest was unbelievable, the fear it had replaced had been crushing him since he heard her name on the news. The thought that his wife...he stopped, with that thought, the fear returned; the name on her health insurance, had she changed it back? He turned back to the nurse, a renewed worry on his already pale features.

"Meade."

"Excuse me?"

"Check Meade."

A doctor walking past at that moment, stopped in his tracks. "Did you say Meade?"

Daniel nodded as his fears came true.

"Brought in from a fire rescue?"

He nodded again, not trusting mouth to work.

"You're the next of kin?"

"Yeah...she's my...yeah." His voice croaked.

The doctor put his hand on Daniel's arm. "This way please." He gestured down the hall towards the wards.

Daniel followed him, looking in each room as he went, trying to see her. What kind of state would she be in? Was she awake yet? Had she been caught in the fire itself, was she burned? No matter what he found in the room, he would never walk away again.

The sounds in the hospital were growing quieter and Daniel noticed they were now heading away from the wards. He returned his head to face the doctor again and stopped, stock still, when he saw they were heading to a private waiting room.

"No." He shook his head.

The doctor gave him a tight, sympathetic smile and pushed the door open. "Sir please...come inside."

Daniel shook his head with more vigour and backed away, almost tripping over his own feet. "NO! No, I'm not coming in that room, I know what you tell people in those rooms and if I don't come in you can't tell me that about her!"

"Please...in private."

"I said no!" He screamed. His demeanour shattered and his face crumbled as he read the doctors expression. "No...don't make me go in there...please." His voice broke on the last word and it turned into a plea; begging the doctor not to say what he was about to.

Daniel felt his world darken and all sounds around him cease as the doctor walked to him and placed his hand back on his arm, squeezing lightly. Daniel continued shaking his head, his lips pressed together to suppress the tears which had started the minute he saw they were heading to that room.

"I'm sorry, we did all we could."

It took a moment to realise that the sound of a wounded animal was in fact coming from him, the doctor gripped him tighter and looked him in the eye, his regret and sympathy clear on his face.

"She's gone."

_Say goodnight  
>Don't be afraid<br>Calling me, calling me as you fade to black_


	25. This Womans Work

**This woman's work**

_Pray God you can cope.  
>I stand outside this woman's work,<br>This woman's world.  
>Ooh, it's hard on the man,<br>Now his part is over.  
>Now starts the craft of the father.<em>

Death. And time. The real enemies of humankind. They take away from you, mercilessly, without a question, without a second thought. They never give anyone the chance to say goodbye, and when they do it's always too brief, too sudden, too quick and painful. Death can kill without killing, and there's nothing to mend those wounds.

It can take a son from you. It can take a father, a mother.

It can take a wife.

What remains, when everything is over? What remains, when there's nothing but hurt, and pain, and tears? What remains of a life torn apart, of the cries for help, of the hopeless quest for happiness, when death comes and steals the ground from right under your feet?

Nothing.

_I know you have a little life in you yet.  
>I know you have a lot of strength left.<br>I know you have a little life in you yet.  
>I know you have a lot of strength left.<em>

Betty reached Amanda's apartment, with bags full of food and alcohol, as her friend had asked her. She had tried to reach Marc countless times, but his phone had been disconnected for the past hour. Just when she reached the top of the stairs and began walking towards Amanda's apartment, she heard the familiar ringing of her cell phone, buried deep inside her bag. She snorted and decided whoever it was would have to wait till her hands were free.

She tapped her foot against the door, to make her presence known, and was surprised when Amanda opened up straight away, pale and trembling. The girl was still in a state of shock, and Betty smiled.

"Cheer up, I got your booze!" she said trying to cheer her up.

But Amanda shook her head and grabbed her by the elbow, hushing her and hurrying her inside the apartment. The TV was on, but Betty turned around, laying the bags on the floor.

"Amanda, I know you're still upset, but you told me yourself you and Daniel parted ways in the most amicable way possible," she said, rubbing her friend's back.

"It's not that," Amanda whispered, walking past her, leaving Betty there. She positioned herself in front of the TV and pointed at the screen. "It's Mode."

"What do you mean?" Betty asked, a smile still plastered on her face.

"Mode it's burning."

The smile, however small it had been, disappeared, replaced by a look of pure horror. The girl ran up in front of the TV and reached for the remote, turning the volume up as loud as possible. Suzuki's voice filled their ears, while the horrid vision of the black smoke outside the windows of the place she'd been at just that afternoon made her heart sink.

"_There are still no reports on the cause of such a tremendous fire, but what we know for sure is that a body was taken out of the building."_

The usually cheerful man seemed a vague memory, now Suzuki was on the screen, looking devastated. Even his voice and the usual funny quips were long forgotten, as he gave the bad news no one had wanted to hear, just like after the announcement of Fey Sommers' death.

Someone had died, at Mode.

Unconsciously, Betty reached into her bag and effortlessly found her phone, sitting on top of her wallet. She took it out and looked on the screen. When she read Marc's name as the previous missed call, she knew.

"Do you think we know the dead guy?" Amanda asked, in a whisper.

Betty, her eyes still on the screen, noticed the uncontrollable shaking that was pervading her, starting with her hands and legs. She didn't want to say it out loud, hoping if she didn't it would remain just a baseless suspicion, but the reason in her told her it was stupid and childish holding onto straws.

"I think it's Wilhelmina."

Amanda spun around and shook her head. "It can't be her," she said. "It can't be her, Daniel was going to her, he was going to get her back, they were- he was- it's not Wilhelmina," she concluded. Betty knew what she was doing, she had been tempted to go into denial, but she was far more mature than Amanda, and she knew denial wouldn't help.

"I need to get a hold of Daniel," she said, dialing madly on the keypad. She put the phone against her ear and waited, each ring seemed to be loud enough to be heard all over town to her.

He didn't pick up.

_I should be crying, but I just can't let it show.  
>I should be hoping, but I can't stop thinking<em>

Marc had been in the hospital broom cupboard for the past hour, ever since he'd come rushing in, after the doctors had called telling him Wilhelmina was in a life-threatening, critical situation, with severely smoke-damaged lungs. She had already been on the operating table, when he'd gotten there, but he couldn't bear to stand in the waiting area, stuck in a limbo where his friend was neither alive nor dead.

He had never been an assiduous religious person. He had prayed a total of five times in his life: the night his grandfather had died, the day before his hiring at Mode, that time he and Cliff had fought badly, the day after coming out to his mother, the day he'd found out Amanda was pregnant.

There he was, now, sitting in the corner of the small broomstick closet, his knees against his chest and his head in between them, his hands clutching desperately at the fabric of his trousers like a kid who was hoping his father wouldn't beat up his mother, this time.

Surrounded by clinical supplies, scrubs, sheets, he was asking God one thing only: to let her live, and let him see her again. Not only for an egotistical need of having her in his life as his guiding light: it was for her. He wanted her to have another chance at happiness, he wanted her to be able to be truly complete again, and he knew it might only happen with Daniel by her side. He hated to admit it, but he finally did.

With a last, audible sob, he rolled his head back, leaning against the wall, and looked up, a few tears rolling down his cheeks. The pain in his stomach was twisting his guts, so tightly he knew he was going to vomit soon.

A sad smile crossed his face as the memory of the day he'd first met Wilhelmina Slater floated in the sea of his thoughts. The way she had looked at him, across the desk, drumming her fingers on the glass desk. How she had eyed him carefully, silently analyzing him and locating the little mistakes. The single question she had asked.

"_Do you read Vogue?"_

"_No,"_he had answered, without a doubt, because it was true. Never had he laid eyes on Vogue's pages, never had he given a damn what Anna Wintour and her entourage of lackeys thought was in. It had always been Wilhelmina Slater, for him. She had been the person he wanted to follow, she had been the only one he had ever really looked up to.

After that day, he had been with her every day of his life, holidays included. The most he had been away from her had been the annual Christmas week. She was his safety net, the only woman who had always been there, more than his mother, more than Amanda. Her, Wilhelmina Slater.

She would always be the one, for him.

He had been in that closet for over an hour, he was oblivious to anything going on, on the outside. He was unaware of the person going round the wing, looking for him, to tell him the results of the operation, to tell him whether his friend was still alive, or not.

_Of all the things I should've said,  
>That I never said.<br>All the things we should've done,  
>That we never did.<br>All the things I should've given,  
>But I didn't.<em>

"You shouldn't have come," Betty said while she and the unexpected guest sat in the back of the cab that was taking them to the hospital. "You really should have stayed home."

Amanda shook her head. "Don't be silly, Betty," Amanda said, matter-of-factly. "Doesn't matter what happened, the woman was a significant part of my life."

"Is."

"What?"

"The woman _is_a significant part of your life…we don't…we don't know anything yet, we just assumed the worst." Her voice trailed off, and she looked out. "We know nothing," she added, in a whisper.

"Betty, don't get me wrong here," Amanda began, upset. "I don't want her to be dead. I want her to be alive, I want her to survive. I know what I did…what she did…what we did, Betty, can hardly be recounted as a friendship. But I care. I'm as devastated as you are, so don't try and make me look like the heartless bitch standing in line, waiting for the bad news to drop only to celebrate, because I'm not. That's why I'm coming. The reason I'm coming is that, despite everything, this is my family. Not Fey, Mode is. And Daniel, Wilhelmina, Marc…you. You are all part of the only family I've ever known. So don't put this on me Betty. Don't you dare."

Betty returned her eyes on the girl; the words stung, as she was right. Somewhere in the middle of this whole ordeal, she had stopped seeing Amanda as _Mode_. She had detached the girl from the reality of the magazine; actually, she had detached everyone from that place: Daniel was no longer the CEO, Wilhelmina was not an Editor in Chief. They had all forgotten about Mode, too busy taking care of their lives.

And now, Mode had risen against them, punished them, chastised for neglecting what had once been the center of their focus. Like a forgotten child would draw on a wall, Mode had found a way to bring them all back where they should have been.

"What's the best memory you have, of Wilhelmina?" Amanda asked, out of the blue. "And this is not mourning, this is distraction."

Betty puckered her lips, thinking of the many times Wilhelmina had belittled her, making her life a living hell. Strange enough, however, those scary memories were here and there compensated by those rare moments in which Wilhelmina had spurred her to do more, shown her real admiration, approval, motivated her and pushed her further on the edge to force her to give it her best.

With a smile, she shrugged. "There was this one time, before she and Daniel got married. Remember when they wanted to get married in private, just the two of them, no big wedding, no big ceremony? She came to me, and she knew Daniel had asked me to be his best man- no jokes on me being a male!" she exclaimed, when Amanda opened her mouth. "So, Wilhelmina came to me, I was staying at my dad's because I had already sold the apartment to you, and I was now staying permanently in London. So, I was in New York for the sole purpose of the wedding, and I hear a knock on the door. I open up and can you imagine my surprise when I see Wilhelmina Slater on my doorsteps? A cloud of Chanel, probably wearing more dollars than the whole block did."

Amanda giggled: the image was not hard to picture.

"She was not at ease, I could see that. I mean, we wear past the loathing, and the scheming, Daniel had somewhat tamed her already, but still it was clear, never in a million years would she have ever thought to step over my threshold. When I let her in, she remained in the hallway for at least ten minutes, looking around, neither of us spoke a word."

"That must have been awkward," Amanda chimed in.

"Oh god, it was. It was even more awkward when my dad walked down the stairs in a bathrobe. I wish you'd been there, Amanda, I swear I could see every vein in her forehead."

They both chuckled, and it was in that moment that Betty realized her eyes were wet, because speaking of the woman whose life they didn't know was still in danger, or worse, made her sad. A sadness that came from within, from the strange relationship they'd built through years and years of working together first, and her relationship with Daniel later.

"The reason she'd come all the way to my house was that…she was worried. She didn't know if that marriage was what Daniel really wanted. See the difference, there, Amanda? She wasn't voicing a doubt on her feelings, she knew what she wanted, and it was Daniel. What scared her was the possibility this might hurt Daniel, that maybe he was doing it to prove something. She wanted him to do it only because he loved her, nothing more."

She paused, smiling at the memory. If she closed her eyes, she could still see Wilhelmina, sitting in her dining room, fumbling with her fingers like a lovesick teenager who has no idea which road to take, and how to do it. She remembered clearly the slight trembling of the woman's hands, the stiffness of her pose, the desire to look anywhere but into the eyes of that girl who had the ability to read through others.

She had never seemed more of a normal person than that afternoon, to Betty's eyes.

"What did you tell her?" Amanda asked. "I remember that period. You didn't seem happy with the situation. And still that day, you were ready to be Daniel's best man- uhm, best woman?" Anyway, you were there. And it seemed like you'd changed your mind so suddenly."

"That's exactly the thing. That was the single moment, when I saw her there, listening to her words…the single moment in which I understood that it was the right thing. For both."

Amanda nodded. "You wanna know mine?" she asked, with a small smile.

"You have good memories of her? And I thought what happened might have erased them all."

"Don't start," Amanda warned her.

"Alright, go ahead."

The girl leaned into the seat and closed her eyes, remembering clearly the day she was about to tell Betty about. She could still make out every detail, every word Wilhelmina had said, every little expression, the tiniest movements in her own face as she listened to what the older woman told her.

"A few months after the wedding…the real wedding, the official one… I was at Mode, working on the show for Fashion Week. I was in the closet, and Wilhelmina sent someone to tell me to join her in her office. I swear B, I was so scared, I was sure I'd misunderstood some of her orders, maybe the show was a disaster, maybe the dresses weren't right…I don't know, of the dozens things that crossed my mind, I really didn't want to disappoint her. We had come a long way, she kind of trusted me with my work, and the idea I might destroy whatever small faith she seemed to have in me…It appalled me."

Betty opened her mouth, ready to joke about that last sentence, but the loving caress in Amanda's voice stopped her. It wasn't right, to keep rubbing salt onto the wound.

"So I went into her office, and she told me to sit down. I remember I started going on about how sorry I was, whatever thing had gone wrong I would fix it…Thinking back, I must have sounded like a mad woman. But she stopped me, and she just gave me a little box."

"She gave you a present?" Betty asked, incredulous. "Wilhelmina doesn't do _presents_."

"It wasn't a present," Amanda continued, chuckling. "More like a…_passing on."_

"I don't get it."

"Of course you don't, if you'll let me explain without interrupting, maybe…"

Betty grinned sheepishly and nodded, inviting her to go on with her story.

"Inside the box, was this," she said, moving her shirt a little to show her neckline. She was wearing a beautiful, simple necklace, a gold chain with a single red, oval pendant. Betty knew she had seen it somewhere, but she had no idea where exactly, so she just shoved the thought away. "It was Fey's."

Betty opened her mouth, forming a little 'o', and suddenly remembered where she'd seen the necklace. Wilhelmina had worn it around her arm, as a bracelet, the day of her wedding. It was sad, nonetheless, seeing how Wilhelmina had still found a place for Fey in the most important day of her life, despite the complicated relationship between the two. And most of all, given the despair Fey had brought in their lives ever since she'd come back, it was bittersweet.

"She said she had gotten it when Fey's stuff had been put up for auction. She didn't want it to go to a total stranger, because she knew how much Fey had loved the necklace. Something about it being the only family heirloom the woman had ever given a crap about."

"It's very nice," Betty said, mesmerized by the little shiny stone, and asking herself how come she'd never noticed Amanda was wearing something that had once belonged to Wilhelmina.

"She gave it to me, because she said I was mature enough to have it. That it was rightfully mine as, you know, Fey's daughter."

Betty tried to decipher the expression on the girl's face, as she said Fey's name, but it was cryptic. She knew how much it hurt her, she knew it was not easy having to admit your mother was there but still out of reach.

"Do you think she's dead, Betty?" Amanda asked, looking outside.

It was one of those rare times in which Betty Suarez didn't know what to say.

"I think we should tell her," the girl continued, talking to herself. She propped herself up and touched the driver's shoulder. "Dude, change of plans, we're not going to the hospital."

Betty watched the exchange, trying to understand what was going on through Amanda's mind. But if there was anything she'd learnt in the past seven years, it was to never attempt that, or you might get lost in a weird place.

The car took a turn.

_Oh, darling, make it go,  
>Make it go away.<em>

Just as she put the receiver down, she heard a knock on the door, insistent, determined. She bit the inside of her cheek. She really didn't want to see anyone, not now that her master plan was finally in motion. The first step was done, now all that remained was her acting on it.

The knocking didn't cease, and this time she heard the familiar voice shout over the door.

"Open up, I know you're in there!"

Fey stood up slowly and walked up to the door, knowing very well she couldn't ignore the visitor. She opened up and looked into the pair of green eyes, so similar to her own. She shifted her gaze upon the shorter, chubby brunette standing beside her daughter, looking absolutely petrified.

"Oh my God, she's alive," she whispered, her eyes bulging. "She's alive, Amanda. She's really alive."

"I know," Amanda said, keeping her stare on her mother.

"Are you determined to rat me out to anyone, Amanda?" Fey hissed, her fingers gripping the doorknob tightly.

"I don't care who knows about you," the girl replied, cold as ice. "I just thought you should know it before it reaches the press and is all over the news." Fey tilted her head, preparing for what was to come. "There was a fire at Mode, as I'm sure you know by now." Fey nodded, wordlessly. "Wilhelmina was in the building." Betty noticed the small twitch in the woman's lips. "Chances are high she…"

Amanda's voice trailed off, Betty heard it breaking and the girl shook in a sob, bringing a hand to her mouth, as if saying it out loud was actually too much to bear.

"Is she dead?" Fey inquired, but the veil that had descended upon her eyes betrayed her pretend stoicism.

"Yes," Betty answered for both of them, taking the responsibility of admitting, once and for all, that it was true. Wilhelmina Slater was no longer.

"What should I do?" Fey asked, pursing her lips firmly. "Want me to throw a party?"

Amanda frowned. "I- No. I thought…"

"You thought wrong. Clearly."

The door slammed closed in their face.

_Give me these moments back.  
>Give them back to me.<br>Give me that little kiss.  
>Give me your hand.<em>

Walking down the corridor, Marc was cold. He had left the small closet reluctantly, but he knew he couldn't stay in there, hidden forever. The man in him told him he had to get out and face the truth, he owed it to her to be with her till the very end.

But now, the long white corridor seemed never-ending, empty, so white the lights blinded him. Step after step, one hand stretched out to hold onto the wall, trying to keep himself steady, because every step seemed to deprive him of that tiny bit of strength left in him.

He stopped and took out his phone, the distraction the only thing to keep him from knowing a little more. He scrolled down the missed calls and hit the call button when he found the number he wanted to call back. Betty's voice answered almost immediately. He swallowed deeply, trying to hide the lump.

"Hey," he said.

"Thank God, finally," Betty exclaimed. "What happened, is everyone ok?"

He was about to answer, about to tell them that he still didn't know, that Wilhelmina's conditions were critical, but she was alive, still. He was about to say all that when he studied a figure exiting a room in the far end of the corridor.

He watched Daniel, eyes fixed into space. The man leaned back against the wall and slid down to the floor, hiding his face in his hands, and Marc knew.

"No," he whispered, and closed the connection.

He forced himself to close the distance in between himself and Daniel, himself and the truth, and when he did he wished he hadn't.

Daniel looked up, his eyes big and filled with tears. "She's gone Marc," he said, not believing his own words. "She's gone." He was shaking his head, the tears rolling down his cheeks. She's gone before she could forgive me."

Marc knelt down before him and sat on his haunches, his hands abandoned on his laps. He stared into Daniel's eyes: no matter how much he was hurting, the tears weren't coming. He felt like a thousand needles were going through his whole body, but the tears couldn't get out. He felt the little part of himself that had always been hers dying with her, but he couldn't cry like Daniel did.

"How could she Marc?" Daniel asked. "She had to forgive me. She had to understand, Marc. She's gone, and she didn't forgive me!" He raised his voice, when he said this, his fists clenched by his sides. "Why didn't she forgive me, Marc? Why did she go before she could forgive me?"

Marc heard Daniel's words, repeating the same thing over and over again, but they didn't stick, they just floated and disappeared in thin air. All he could think about was that she would not be there to scold him, beat him, tell him he wasn't doing his best. Nor to tell him how much of a good friend he was.

Those tears, those damned tears were right behind his lids but they didn't want to fall, afraid if they fell it would be the last seal on a death that he didn't want to accept, that he didn't want to be real.

He never knew his affection for Wilhelmina ran this deep, but right there he wished he'd died in her place.

_I know you have a little life in you yet  
>I know you have a lot of strength left<em>

They remained in the corridor sitting side by side on the floor, their backs against the wall for hours. They didn't know, but outside the sun had disappeared behind the tall skyscrapers, and the sky had taken a deep shade of orange. The corridor was silent.

Betty and Amanda had arrived shortly after the news had been broken, and had been shocked by it, even though they had somewhat expected it. Now the two girls were nowhere to be seen. Betty had excused herself when the sight of the two friends, catatonic, had been too much to bear. Amanda had been close on her heels, knowing that was a private moment for Marc and Daniel, who had been the two people closest to Wilhelmina in her whole life.

They hadn't spoken ever since, settling into that weird silence was more comforting than any word could ever be. Their shoulders touched, they could hear each other's deep, shaky breathing, but they were oblivious to the other's presence, each lost in his own thoughts.

Thoughts of ways to cope with the loss, thoughts of mourning and despair. Thoughts of words and feelings unspoken, things not done. Now it was too late, there was only room for regrets and doubts. They had nowhere safe to go, anymore, there was not a place where they could be safe from the pain, because the pain came from within and it would follow them wherever they would go. There was no shelter, no closet big enough to contain both their sorrows.

"She knew," Marc said, with a sigh. "She always did. No matter how far she got with Sawyer, she would always come back to you. She was never able to pull you out of her own system."

Daniel turned his head slowly to face Marc, and studied his profile, taking in the words.

"She never stopped loving you, Daniel, only a fool would believe that. The problem is- was… She loved you too much, and this proved just how much. That despite your cheating she couldn't hate you again, it was something that scared her. I'm sure she forgave you a long time ago, Daniel."

"I can't… I feel like I don't have a reason to get up from this floor anymore."

"Then let's stay here, shall we?" Marc said, offering a small, sad smile.

_I should be crying, but I just can't let it show.  
>I should be hoping, but I can't stop thinking<em>

Sawyer's ears were filled with noises, but all he could hear was a buzz. When he'd gotten Marc's text he had thought it a bad joke, but surely enough even he was smart enough to understand Marc would never joke about something like that. He was in a cab, headed to the hospital, but all he could think of was that the last he had seen of her had been her back.

She had been mad at him, he had been an ass, and now he could never apologize again.

The car pulled to a stop in front of the tall building and Sawyer threw a bunch of bills over to the driver, not caring the amount; he got out and ran into the hospital, looking around. Surrounded by doctors, nurses, he found himself at a loss on what to do, where to go, what to say.

It was cruel that she had been taken away from him, so soon. And he couldn't stop thinking it was his fault, his goddamned fault, Wilhelmina had gone to Mode in the first place. If he had just resisted the urge to push her, to tell her to make a choice, she would not have felt the urge to leave the house, she wouldn't have been there when the fire had started. He had killed her, in a way, he and Daniel both had, and there was not a chance in hell either could live with the memory.

Why couldn't he just have slammed the door in Daniel's face, that evening? Or better, why couldn't he have pushed aside the pride and let him speak to her without feeling threatened by the man's presence? Why hadn't he just smiled and bitten back the retorts, the frustration, like he had countless times, instead of causing this? Why?

"Mister? You need help?" came the patronizing voice from his right. He turned and looked at the short, older woman, a nurse, whose hand was placed on his forearm in a kind gesture. He opened his mouth but no sound came out. "Is there anything I can do?" she pressed.

Sawyer nodded. "I'm here to see someone, she came in last night…the fire…"

"Oh," the woman said, and her features softened. "Dear, are you alone?" she asked, motherly.

Sawyer nodded again.

"Come here," she said, inviting him to follow her. He did, without further questioning, follow the nurse along across the room and through a door that led them to a corridor. She pointed to the far end. "You need to go over there, find a doctor, they'll explain."

Sawyer thanked her and walked fast, covering the length of the corridor in a very short time. He halted when the two shadows he had located from afar became two distinct figures he could identify.

"Marc, Daniel," he said, breathlessly. "What happened…What…"

The two men looked up and the wetness in their eyes told him all he needed to know. He walked up to them and leaned back against the opposite wall, mirroring their position, sitting down. With his elbows on his knees, he leaned his forehead against his palms and squeezed his eyes shut to fight the pain.

_Of all the things we should've said,  
>That were never said.<em>

Walking through the blackened floors, the firemen had collected an incredible amount of personal objects. Mode had not been the only one affected by the fatality, so had other floors of the Meade building. Hudson had been only slightly touched by it, the damage really started from the 25th floor upwards. The MYW offices had been completely destroyed, so had the Player offices. Mode, on its part, was not as damaged as the other two, but still a good amount of fire had reached the hall, and the smoke had blackened the place.

Sheldon walked into one of the offices in the 28th floor, just above Mode's, to locate extent of the damage, but the offices had only been slightly caressed by the fire. The room was immaculate, a red jacket lay abandoned over the armchair behind the glass desk. A laptop was still opened on the surface, in standby. He moved the mouse lightly and the screen came to life.

He stared at the document which opened; a long letter.

"_Dear readers,  
>It is about forgiveness that I speak today. That gift that all of us have been endowed with, but that most of us are scared to use. It might be out of pride, it might be out of fear, we have the hardest time forgiving those who wrong us. What is it, about forgiveness, that makes us so weak? Why do we find it so difficult to forgive the ones we love? And most of all, why, even after we have indeed forgiven, we can't tell them, preferring to keep hidden behind a veil of hostility?<br>Here I speak to all those who harbor in their hearts a little of that sentiment, so precious, and need a word of advice. Do it. Tell your loved ones you forgive them, tell them how much you love them. Do not forget but forg-"_

The document had been brusquely interrupted, probably because the person writing had been alerted of the fire.

He pushed the print button and collected the document, folding it and thrusting it into his pocket.

_All the things we should've done,  
>That we never did.<em>

"It's my fault," Sawyer said.

"Don't-"

"It is," he insisted, despite Marc's attempt. "It's my fault she went there, I forced her to choose between me and Daniel. She never would have gone there, she wouldn't have been in the fire."

"It's not the right time to place the blame," Daniel said, staring ahead.

"You don't want to hear this because you know it would mean you are to blame too."

Daniel's head turned ever so slowly, but his face was blank. "Now is not the time," he repeated, a dangerous edge in his voice.

Sawyer stopped talking and returned his eyes to the floor. Marc, who had witnessed the exchange, didn't seem to have the strength, nor the will, to say anything to console them. It was their fault. They had pushed her, and pushed her, tired her to the very core of her bones, until she had to find a place to run away. If they had been mature enough to leave her alone, no, she would not have been at Mode that night.

Probably, if things had been different, they would be around the dinner table now, he, Sawyer and Wilhelmina. He would be stroking Hudson while Sawyer and Wilhelmina toyed with food like two lovesick teenagers. He would pretend to be disgusted at the sight. Sawyer would slip a piece of chocolate cake to Hudson, and Wilhelmina would complain that she had a fat dog. Hudson would bark in complaint, and Sawyer would say he was too adorable to put him on a diet.

Instead, they were at the hospital, the three most unlikely companions, and Wilhelmina was not with them. Wilhelmina, who had brought them all together in the first place, had brought them together this one last time, and she was not there to feel awkward, she would never be there again to play nice, to tell them to get along, to reprimand them for their childish ways. Wilhelmina, who had been more of a woman than any of them had been men.

The sound of the door opening made them all look up, their eyes running along the white robe of the doctor standing on the threshold. "Who's family?" he asked the three of them.

Marc and Sawyer looked at each other, and they knew the answer was only one. "He is," Marc said, pointing at Daniel.

"Please, follow me," the doctor said, holding the door open for him. Daniel entered and the man closed the door behind them. It was a small, elegant office. The walls were decorated with certifications and paintings. On the left was a big oak library, and on the right was a huge desk.

"Mister Meade, I suppose?" the man asked, taking a seat in the tall armchair behind the heavy desk.

Daniel nodded.

"I'm sorry for your loss," he whispered, shaking his head. "I've known her for a long time, and she will be deeply missed."

Daniel nodded again.

"Unfortunately, as I'm sure you know already, the lungs were too damaged. We tried all we could, but the smoke was just…and she wasn't that strong anymore, she was not young Mister Meade."

"She was," he said, looking down. "Too young to die, anyway."

"I know we're never quite ready to say goodbye, but I can assure you, if it's any consolation, that she went without suffering."

"That doesn't comfort me, but thanks anyway," Daniel said. "What do you need from me?" he said, matter-of-factly.

"I need you to sign a few papers, I know it's very soon but there is a protocol to follow," the man said, sliding the papers to his side of the desk. Daniel sat down and looked down at the words meshed together, none of it made sense.

"I'm not sure I should sign these…I'm not family in the strictest sense of the word. We were divorced."

"What?"

"I'm not her husband anymore," Daniel repeated. "Maybe you should contact her parents. They live in Washington. Her father is a senator." While he spoke, he thought he should have called them, let them know. They still didn't know their daughter was dead.

The doctor frowned. "Mister Meade, I'm afraid there's been a misunderstanding."

_All the things that you needed from me.  
>All the things that you wanted for me.<br>All the things that I should've given,  
>But I didn't.<em>

Wilhelmina opened her eyes. Her mouth was dry, the vision started blurry and cleared after a few seconds. Every muscle in her body was sore, she felt like moving a finger would be too much of an effort. Breathing hurt, like her lungs would explode any minute.

She heard noises around her, and something was lifted off her face by a woman wearing white. She didn't understand what was going on, but she felt safe.

"Miss Slater, you're in the hospital," said the woman. "It's ok, you're going to recover perfectly. You might have a little trouble breathing, you've been administered oxygen through mask till now, but it seems you can do on it your own. I'm going to call your doctor and tell him you're awake, if you have any trouble please push this button."

Wilhelmina felt the woman putting something in her hand, and with a last kind smile she left. The room was quiet. She tried to move her head, but she felt a pang at her temples.

_What the fuck,_she thought. With what seemed to her like a titanic effort, she managed to prop herself enough to pull at the lever and raise the upper part of the bed a little, enough to be in a semi-sitting position.

Then she heard noises and voices outside her room and squinted. The door burst open and she jumped out of her skin when two people cane running inside. She tried to say something, but her throat would not cooperate, so the two people stood beside her bed looking down on her, both had their eyes filled with tears.

"Willie…" Marc began, but no words could fully interpret what the man had been through. Wilhelmina reached for his hand and closed her eyes, squeezing it as strong as she could.

Sawyer bent over and caressed the top of her head, kissing her forehead. "I thought I'd lost you," he whispered, with a big smile.

She smiled back, nodding lightly. Her doctor watched the scene from the door, giving them that moment, knowing they deserved it after the huge mix up of the day. "Miss Slater?" he said, walking into the room. "I'm Doctor Cooper, I'm the surgeon who operated on you."

Wilhelmina coughed a little, and Sawyer was quick to reach over to the side-table and grab a glass of water and offer it to her. She took a sip, and the liquid cooled her throat.

"Thank you," she said, low and not without difficulty. She looked around, looking for something, but returned her eyes to the man when she clearly couldn't find it.

"I'm positive you'll make full recovery in a short time. I think you should stay here for a few days, to monitor your progress, but other than that you'll be free to go home soon, possibly with someone. I want you to rest, Miss Slater. You've undergone serious pneumonic surgery, you need to be cautious. You still have stitches on your upper chest, you might wanna take it slow."

"I'll be there," Sawyer intervened. "I'll be there, she's not going to be alone. And Marc too. We're all going to be there."

"Perfect," Cooper said, and with a nod he turned around and left the room.

Wilhelmina followed the man's back and when he reached the door her glare was caught by the other man standing on the threshold. "Daniel," she whispered.

Sawyer and Marc looked towards him and instantly took a step back. Daniel smiled and walked inside, slowly, until he was at the side of the bed. "How are you?" he asked.

"Alive," she said, and smiled painfully. "I'm sorry. For Mode."

Daniel smiled. It was forced, stretched, fake.

"What's wrong Daniel?" Wilhelmina asked.

"Nothing, nothing that can't wait till you're out of here," he said, laying his hand above hers. Sawyer flinched.

"Tell me," Wilhelmina insisted. "I can read it in your eyes. You were never good at hiding things." She squeezed his hand, imperceptibly.

Daniel squeezed it back and looked briefly at Marc and Sawyer, and the two understood. Reluctantly, they left the room, leaving the two alone. Daniel sat down on the bed, looking into her eyes sadly. He reached up to her cheek and stroked it before leaning in and kissing it.

"Daniel," she whispered.

"I'm glad you're fine," he said, smiling and sitting up again.

"You're avoiding the question. What's wrong?" she asked, growing concerned. "Is it Mode? Is it bad? Is it the Meade building?"

Daniel's smile disappeared and he dipped his head down. She watched as his shoulders were shaken by a sob, and she reached for his face, a finger under his chin.

"What happened?" she insisted.

"There was a mix up, today…When I walked into the hospital, they told me you were dead."

"Let's sue then," she said, smiling at her own joke. But Daniel's expression didn't light up. "That's not it, is it? There's something else."

Daniel nodded, and a tear rolled down his cheek. "The mix up had a reason. I asked for Slater, and they told me you weren't here. So I thought you were filed under my name, Meade. And that's why they told me you were dead."

Wilhelmina's face froze, as she slowly took in what those words meant. It couldn't be true. There had to be a mistake.

"You were not the only Mrs Meade in the building," Daniel concluded.

_Oh, darling, make it go away.  
>Just make it go away now.<em>


	26. Behind Blue Eyes

**Behind Blue Eyes**

"You know...I think I have more." Betty said, a surprised yet melancholic tone in her voice.

"More what?" Amanda answered, distractedly; precariously balancing the coffees as she and Betty navigated the hallways of the hospital. She truly didn't know why they had even gone for coffee. Coffee was what you drank as you paced the halls, waiting for news of your loved ones; coffee was the staple used in these situations; what people stereotypically downed in gallons as they tried to stave off the fear that was ever present inside the walls of a hospital. Even people who didn't drink coffee, as soon as you were in a hospital, you drank it. Going for coffee was often the only helpful thing people could think of to do.

It was the _only_ thing to do.

But there would be no pacing of hallways; no news to be heard. The small gesture she and Betty held in their hands would bring no comfort; Wilhelmina was dead.

"More what!" Amanda repeated sharply, begging Betty to continue to stop the dark thoughts consuming her.

"Good memories of Wilhelmina, actually it's surprising how many I can think of." Betty finished weakly.

"Like what?" Amanda prompted her, grateful for the distraction, she needed to keep talking.

Betty shrugged. "I dunno, it's more...how she changed I guess. Small things, how she became somewhat softer when she was with Daniel. Or maybe it's just seeing how happy she made Daniel, I mean they were-" She looked at Amanda. "Sorry, I wasn't thinking."

Amanda smiled. "No, go on, I'm past the stage of realising she made him happier than I ever could. I just...I hate myself for taking him away during what would have been their last months together." She left her further thoughts unvoiced, that if she hadn't tried so vehemently to get Daniel by her side, then Wilhelmina would have been home with Daniel tonight.

She would still be alive.

Betty sensed Amanda's discomfort and cleared her throat, drawing the girl's attention back to her. "Anyway, little things, you know? Like when she asked me to be a witness at the wedding, the first one I mean. I know Daniel would have asked me anyway, but she did it first, she knew what it would mean to him."

"Or how about the time she stood up to Marc's Mom when she was in town? Remember? Marc thought she was trying to finally accept him and it turned out she wanted to get back some stupid family heirloom from her 'disappointment'. Willie sent that two-bit old hag away faster than parachute pants." Amanda smiled at the memory of the witchy Mrs Weiner being verbally torn to shreds as Wilhelmina pointed out how lucky she was to have a child like Marc. "Marc was so...god Betty he's not gonna get over this." She finished on a whisper.

Betty swallowed and continued, not allowing her friend to wallow in the guilt she knew she was feeling. "Or remember when Ms Meade had to throw her that dumb party and you, Wilhelmina and Marc-"

Amanda stopped abruptly, cutting Betty off, and the drinks in her hand fell to the ground, she didn't even register the hot liquid burn her ankles as it splashed back on her. "Or how about the time we thought she was dead, but she was really in that room hugging Daniel."

Betty's head whipped upward and followed Amanda's stare. "What!" Her mouth fell open as she looked in the open door at the end of the hallway and could clearly make out Wilhelmina clutching Daniel's head to her. Even from this distance, she could make out the wetness in Wilhelmina's eyes and Daniel's body was shaking with obvious sobs. "Oh my God!"

The two girls hurried forward, Amanda lagging slightly, unsure of how Wilhelmina would react to her presence. Betty slowed as she drew closer, something about the scene told her it wasn't the touching reunion she first took it to be.

They stopped at the door and Wilhelmina looked up at them, she took in the sight of Amanda; under other circumstances she would have commented on the girl being there to swoop in on Daniel the minute she believed she was out of the picture once and for all. The news she had just received however, made it impossible; she merely stared at them both.

Betty felt Wilhelmina's silence spoke volumes and knew instantly that something was very wrong. "We...we thought...Daniel?"

Daniel slowly lifted his head from where it had rested, face down, on Willie's shoulder and looked around at the visitors. His eyes where bloodshot, the skin around them and on his nose was red raw.

"What?" Betty's voice was full of trepidation, knowing that the next thing she heard would not be good.

Daniel's mouth opened and he tried to speak, he really tried to make the sound come out; it refused. He shook his head as fresh tears spilled over and Willie pulled his head back to her. She looked over the top of his head at the two young women and bit her lip, swallowing, forcing herself to be the strong one and say what Daniel could not.

"Claire."

_No one knows what it's like  
>To be the bad man<br>To be the sad man  
>Behind blue eyes<em>

"I should get some stuff from the house, make her more comfortable. I'm guessing you'll take care of the dog?"

Sawyer nodded. "Yeah, yeah, he'll be fine 'til the mornin' though." He gazed down the hallway, towards where Wilhelmina's room was, although they were in the cafeteria and couldn't even see it.

Marc waved a hand in front of the man's weary face, breaking his trance. "Sawyer, there's nothing you can do here. The doctor said she just needs rest, she'll be fine. Go back to the apartment and get some sleep."

The older man shook his head. "No, I'm stayin' right here, at least while he's still here."

Marc groaned in annoyance. "For god's sake, she's just escaped a fire and had surgery and he's lost his mother...I hardly think either of them are in any state for you to worry about finding them going at it!" He snapped at the man's childishness.

Sawyer had the good grace to look ashamed. "You're right." He sat down in one of the plastic chairs and ran a hand through his hair, leaning against the table. "I just, I just don't wanna leave her here. I shoulda been with her ya know? I, _we_, shouldn't have put her in that position. We put her in here."

Marc sat opposite him. "Stop this. You want to be strong for her then stop blaming yourself. She's gonna be in a bad place Sawyer." He took a pause, thinking of how to best describe what he needed to say. "You don't know what she and Claire were like to begin with, but I think the word catastrophic is an understatement. They were vile to each other, hated each other with a vengeance you would not believe. But when they were forced to be good...Sawyer...they were better friends than anyone would have ever guessed. The only thing more surprising than Wilhelmina Slater ending up married to Daniel Meade is the friend she found in Claire. Neither of them would ever go as far to admit it, but they cared for each other a lot, they found an affinity with the other. They discovered it too late and now it's gone."

The two men stared down at their own hands on the table, both feeling they should be in with Wilhelmina right now, and both knowing that the only one she wanted in that moment was already with her.

So lost in their own thoughts, were the depressed twosome, that neither noticed the footsteps approaching, they only reacted when the chairs next to them were pulled out and Betty and Amanda slipped into them.

Amanda sat next to Sawyer and the two gave tight smiles to each other, although there was nothing happy about this meeting. Marc watched his friend and saw the tears shining; this loss was affecting them all.

A part of their family was gone. A piece of them had died.

Marc shifted his attention to the girl sat beside him and sighed in sympathy, annoyed at himself for not noticing her state sooner. He wrapped an arm around Betty's shoulders and pulled her to him, her head rested on his chest and Marc sat his chin on top of her head, feeling her body shaking under it as she unleashed the tears she had been unwilling to shed in front of Daniel.

Amanda's hands stretched across the table and took one each of Marc's and Betty's and squeezed. Sawyer looked around the friends, at this little group he had unwittingly integrated himself into. Marc, he knew and liked the man, but knew his allegiance lay with Wilhelmina and Wilhelmina alone, he couldn't really count him as a friend. Betty, he had only met on a handful of occasions, he thought she was nice enough but she was definitely more a fixture in Daniel's life than Wilhelmina's; and Amanda, he had only ever had cause to think of her as the other woman, that's all she ever was in his girlfriend's eyes. In his, she was the person who made it possible for him to be with the woman he could no longer deny he loved, he couldn't bring himself to hate the girl when she had given him that.

He stood up, the loud scraping of his chair echoed in the small room and he found three sets of wet eyes staring up at him. He felt out of place, he didn't belong with them in this moment. He nodded at them and excused himself, leaving them alone with their grief.

With hands stuffed in his pockets, he shuffled back down to Wilhelmina's room. He needed to see her, hold her and tell her how sorry he was. Sorry he was an ass, sorry she got hurt...sorry for her loss. He stopped a few feet away from her room when he saw her coming out of it, holding Daniel's hand tightly. His eyes locked on her, he had never seen her anything but her highly polished self, never wrapped in a hospital issue white robe like now, her face was bare and her hair scraped off her face in a low ponytail. If he looked hard enough he could still see the black edges around her nostrils, not washed off completely, where the soot had stained her skin. Seeing her like that shook him to his core, not only in that realising that as strong as she made herself, she was as fallible as anyone else, but that even in her current state, all she cared about was keeping Daniel together.

Wilhelmina saw his eyes darken as he took in the joined hands and saw his mouth open to protest. She shook her head curtly, admonishing him before he could say anything. He clamped it shut and nodded, taking a deep breath. There was nothing romantic or sexual in the gesture between the former spouses. He was leaning on her for support and she was trying to keep him grounded. When Sawyer's eyes caught Daniel's he could see the other man's focus was out and his expression was glazed; there was a good chance he didn't even know whose hand he was holding, or even if he was upright.

As the two parties passed each other Willie stopped and had to steady Daniel with her free hand to stop him from walking on, he was on autopilot. "We have to phone Alexis." She told Sawyer quietly, her voice still low and raspy from the smoke she had inhaled.

"Shouldn't you be in bed, you just had surgery, I don't want you to-"

"We need to phone Alexis." She said with slightly more force, cutting him off.

He nodded and took a step back. He watched them walk slowly down to the family room, his eyes drawn to their hands; clutching each other so tight he could see the whites of Daniel's knuckles from here. In the whole time he watched them, in the long minutes it took them to make their way down the corridor, she didn't look back once.

_No one knows what it's like  
>To be hated<br>To be fated  
>To telling only lies<em>

Three days later, the wounds hadn't even begun to heal, everything was still far too real and fresh in their minds. Sawyer and Marc had busied themselves, flitting between the hospital and Wilhelmina's apartment; neither mentioned anything about the fact that whenever they arrived at the hospital, Daniel seemed to be there. Not always with Wilhelmina, but certainly in the vicinity.

Amanda had been trying to contact Fey, but to no avail, it seemed the woman had made herself disappear again. She instead spent her time, unbeknownst to Wilhelmina, helping Marc struggle through the work he brought home from Mode, that he had sparse time to do.

Betty had been trying to get Daniel to go home, to sleep, to do anything but sit in the cold impersonal hospital hallways. A couple of times, she succeeded, he came to her father's house and napped on the couch for a couple of hours, or allowed her to take him back to the hotel he was still paying for where he would be force fed and made to take care of himself by his concerned friend. These sojourns never lasted long though, he was straight back to the hospital once he had slept, eaten or washed.

He refused to go stay at his mother's empty house.

The doctors said Wilhelmina was healing well, outwardly at least, inwardly she was still battling the fear she still couldn't shake even though she was now clear of the fire. If she had been scared of fire before, now she was downright paralysed by it. The past three nights she had awoken soaked in her own sweat, gasping for air, from nightmares she couldn't remember, that she blocked out but knew only too well that they were the same as when she was a teen.

Every time she awoke, Daniel was there.

The doctors had told them she could be released today, Wilhelmina had mixed feelings about it. She hated hospitals, hated being cooped up and told what to do; but when she was stuck in this little room she could pretend that everything outside didn't exist. When she was on the outside she would have to face facts; her building had burned, she didn't know yet how much damage was done to her beloved magazine.

And Claire was dead.

She still hadn't accepted this reality, every time she heard the clack of heels outside her door, she would squeeze her eyes shut, convinced when she opened them, Claire would be at the doorway with some sardonic comment about her.

"_Still flat on your back? Why am I not surprised?"_

She could hear the inflection of her friend's voice and could see the little smirk she would always wear when she was particularly proud of one of her zingers.

"Are you ready?"

The voice from the doorway startled her. She looked up as Marc entered the room and hurriedly tried to hide the paperwork on her lap. She wasn't fast enough and Marc snatched up a sheet from the bed. "What's this?"

"That's none of your business, now give it here."

Too late, his interest already piqued, Marc read the document and sat down on the edge of the bed. "Willie...you told Daniel that Alexis was dealing with all this."

She sighed and nodded, annoyed at Marc for sticking his nose in. "Yes and I told Alexis that Daniel was dealing with it, now give it back. The funeral's tomorrow and I still have to confirm Saul is sending the flowers to the right place and double check how many cars are coming. Not to mention the caterers for the wake have been unreachable all morning and...what?" She said, taken aback by the way Marc was looking at her.

Marc leaned over and, in a move showing how much their relationship had evolved, pressed his lips to her forehead. "You're doing a wonderful thing for Daniel."

"It's for Claire." She corrected him, if her friend had to go, she would make sure she did it with as much style and class as possible,

Marc smiled. "It's for both of them."

"Have Alexis and DJ arrived yet?" She asked him, changing the subject.

"Nope, they should be landing soon."

Wilhelmina nodded, she was somewhat annoyed that Alexis hadn't dropped everything to come over here and support her brother after their mother had passed, but she had to ensure Mode France was covered and DJ had been visiting Switzerland with his school. He only arrived back in Paris yesterday morning.

"Listen Daniel and Sawyer are outside, they're playing nice for the time being. I think they just wanna get you home safe. So...are you ready?" Marc asked her again.

Wilhelmina looked around and stared out the window, out where everyone else was living their lives. She would have to bury her friend tomorrow, and then both the men waiting for her would soon want an answer. "No...I don't think I am."

_But my dreams  
>They aren't as empty<br>As my conscience seems to be_

It was a testament to Sawyer's restraint when he opened the apartment door and held it open for Daniel to enter in front of him. Daniel stood back and let Marc and Wilhelmina walk inside, the second the first loud click of her heel hit the tile, barking filled the air and a yellow tornado flew out the lounge door and down the hallway, tripping over its own overexcited legs and tumbling into Wilhelmina.

"Hey you!" She greeted him, thankful for his presence distracting her from the scrutiny of the others. She picked him up, his madly wagging tail beating her arms. "God, I've been gone three days and you weigh a ton, what've they been feeding you huh?"

The dog squirmed in her arms, tongue lolling out and trying to get close enough to lick her. "No, this make up took long enough to apply with only one good hand." The dog looked at her bandaged hand, as if he understood. The burn from touching the banister was healing but it would scar.

"Let's see what mommy got you, Marc where's that bag I asked you to pick up?"

"That was for the DOG?" Marc exclaimed, wide eyed and held the bag open.

Wilhelmina put the pup down and reached inside the bag, she pulled out the Prada belt and threw it on the floor. Hudson pounced on it, clamped it between his teeth and scurried down the hall and out of sight.

"You know, I have no idea where he takes those things, I expect I'll find a hidden den full of half eaten couture one day." She said, staring after him, still eager to avoid looking at Daniel and Sawyer, not wishing to talk about the fire, Claire, the funeral, or anything to do with their ever more tangled situation.

Thankfully, she was saved from any confrontation by a small voice from behind her. "Aunt Wils?"

All four turned to see the teenager standing at the open doorway. The bravado he had been wearing the last time he was in town, of someone too old to feel like a boy and too young to feel like a man, was long gone. He looked like the little boy she, Marc and Daniel had seen walk into Mode all those years ago, looking for his father; before finding another mother.

"DJ." Daniel acknowledged him first and pulled him into a stiff hug, his strong arm patting him on the back roughly.

DJ broke the hug quickly and in two strides walked into Wilhelmina's outstretched arms. The tears he had tried to hold onto when he embraced his uncle, wanting to keep up the facade of being the strong one, spilled instantly when she hugged him to her.

Willie cupped his head at either side and lifted his head, dipping her head to try and meet his eyes as he stared at the floor, hastily wiping his face on the sleeve of his jacket to hide his tears from the others. Willie wiped at the wetness under his eyes with her thumbs. "Hey kid...you'll be okay."

He nodded and returned his head to her shoulder and her arms circled him again, holding his shoulders and head. She closed her eyes and let her head fall next to his, consumed by the affection she felt for the young man who she had watched grow up these past four years.

The three men watched the scene play out in front of them. Marc; touched by the obvious bond Wilhelmina shared with her one time nephew. Daniel; in pain that he couldn't offer the boy who was as good as his own son, the same comfort he seemed to get from his ex-wife. Sawyer; realising yet again, how far removed he really was from her life. They all watched with such intensity that it wasn't until another body slipped in beside theirs that they even noticed DJ had not arrived alone.

"Daniel?"

Daniel instantly turned into the waiting arms of his sister, the two buried their heads in the crook of each other's necks. "Marc, Sawyer..." Willie whispered, when they looked at her, she nodded her head towards DJ and then towards the lounge.

Marc nodded. "Hey DJ, why don't you come with me...lemme introduce Hudson. I'm sure there's something expensive enough that you're wearing that he'll want to eat."

Wilhelmina watched them all until the turned the corner into her lounge. Walking behind the embracing siblings, she closed the door and moved Alexis and DJ's bags to the side. The movement made Alexis look up and she caught Willie's eye. After checking her brother was ok, she released her hold on him and turned to Wilhelmina.

"Alexis, I'm so so-"

Before Wilhelmina could finish the sentence, Alexis had wrapped her arms around her and pulled her in for a hug. Startled, it took Wilhelmina a couple of seconds to relax and return the embrace. True, she and Alexis had a friendship now, but the contact still shocked her. When she felt the acceptance and the sorrow pouring off Alexis, she couldn't stop her own eyes from burning and when she pulled back, she couldn't hide the trail of tears streaking down her cheeks.

"How are you?" Alexis asked.

"Never mind me." Wilhelmina replied. "I'm fine...it's you and Daniel everyone should be worried about."

Alexis linked arms with Wilhelmina and they walked slowly into the kitchen, Daniel following. "I'm...I don't know how I am." She sighed and looked at Daniel. "I'm sorry I haven't been more help with the arrangements...I just couldn't."

"What are you talking about?" Daniel asked, speaking to her for the first time.

Alexis straightened. "Tomorrow...the funeral...Wilhelmina told me you-"

"But Willie said you-"

They both stopped and looked at her, her eyes flickered between the two. "Look, it's all in hand, I've dealt with it."

"But you were in hospital, you should have been recovering." Daniel told her, touched beyond the telling of it.

"I've dealt with it." She repeated.

Alexis gave her a watery smile, Daniel closed the small distance between them and pulled her into his arms. "I'm so glad you're okay. You scared the hell outta me." He whispered in her ear and then pressed his lips against her temple, letting them linger there. He pulled his head back, but kept her in his arms; Wilhelmina didn't try to push him away, on the contrary, her hands were gripping the material of his jacket.

Alexis looked between them and for the first time since she heard the news of her mother, a smile began to form. "Are you two...?"

Daniel and Wilhelmina looked at her and Willie instantly stepped out of his hold and averted her eyes from him. She shook her head, smiling sadly.

"Good going Alexis, in the door two minutes and you've already stuck your big man feet in your mouth." She said to herself. "Look, Willie should be resting, and we should get back and get rested for tomorrow...it's gonna be a hard day." She finished on a whisper.

"Back?" Daniel asked.

"To Mom's."

Daniel shook his head. "I can't go back there."

"I know you didn't want to stay there when it was empty, but me and DJ are here now."

The stillness of the room was shattered, when Daniel's hand slammed on the worktop, making them jump. "It's not about who's there Alexis! It's about who's _not_ there. Mom is everywhere in that house, yet she's nowhere! I can't go back there, I won't go back to a house full of ghosts."

"But Daniel...you can't keep staying at a hotel, you need people around you."

"NO! I am not going to that house."

"Daniel."

"NO!"

"He can stay here." The words had left Wilhelmina's mouth before she could stop them. Seeing Daniel in that state tore her up and she was offering the only thing she could think of to calm him.

Alexis laughed. "You're not serious."

"Of course I am...why wouldn't I be."

Looking around, wide-eyed, as if expecting an explanation to jump out at her, Alexis went on, "Uhm, because you two are divorced, because last time I saw you two you didn't want him even breathing the same air as you, because, unless I'm very much mistaken, if you two aren't together then that walking dream you left Marc and my son with must be the infamous Sawyer."

"Sawyer will understand, and to be honest, tough if he doesn't and just because I'm no longer married to your brother doesn't mean I don't care about him. It's clear he won't be comfortable in that house and I'll be damned if I'm just gonna let him stay in some hotel when he's just lost his mother."

Alexis and Wilhelmina kept their eyes locked across the kitchen, neither backing down. Both knew it was a terrible idea but Wilhelmina was not about to stand back and watch Daniel suffer anymore than he already had, especially not when she could help relieve it. Daniel, for his part, had felt his heart lift with something akin to hope, for the first time in days.

"I would say, don't you think we should ask Daniel what he wants, but I think I already know the answer." Alexis said, folding her arms.

Both women looked to Daniel , who looked between them before walking to stand at Wilhelmina's side, as they all knew he would.

"Fine." Alexis snapped, throwing her hands in the air, exasperated. "I want to go on record as saying this is a bad idea."

"It's just until he finds something more suitable." Wilhelmina reasoned, somewhat dampening but not yet destroying Daniels hopes.

"Sure it is." The other woman snapped back. "I should get DJ home." She made her way out of the kitchen, stopping at the door she put one hand on the doorframe and looked back at her brother. "You said you didn't want to stay in a house full of ghosts...what do you call this?"

_I have hours, only lonely  
>My love is vengeance<br>That's never free_

"_Mom..." He had been in bed for hours, but had lain awake, waiting to hear the familiar fall of her footsteps as she walked down the hall to her room._

_The door creaked open and the chink of light spread wider across the floor of his dark room, casting the woman standing on the threshold in shadow. "You know Daniel, if you wanted a hug before going to sleep you should have asked for one before you came up here." Her voice was light, he knew she was smiling at him although he couldn't see it._

"_That's not why..." The seven year old Daniel protested._

"_Oh, ok, well goodnight then." She started closing the door._

_The little boy sat up straighter in the bed. "No Mom wait!"_

_The door opened again and his mother came in the room, his eyes adjusted to the light as she came closer and perched on his bed. He swung his clammy little hands around her and let her hug him tight. Closing his eyes, he breathed in the familiar scent of her perfume and the slightly more acidic smell underneath, of the evening drink she tried to mask. She placed a kiss on top of his head._

"_Why don't you come for hugs at bedtime anymore?" She ruffled his hair smiling. "You can't sit up late every night, you'll fall asleep in your breakfast."_

_Daniel shrugged and leaned his head into his mother. "What did Alex say to you?"_

"_Only babies need hugs."_

_He felt the reverberation of her low chuckle. "Well, you'll always be my babies, doesn't matter if you're seven or seventy." Daniel giggled. "And let me tell you something else, Alexander 'I don't need hugs from my Mommy' Meade, still sleeps with his blankie under his pillow."_

"_He does!" The younger Daniel sat up, smiling widely. "I haven't needed mine since I was this many." He held up five chubby little digits._

_Claire laughed. "I know...now that's just between you and me okay?"_

_The little boy nodded happily as his mother kissed him again. She stood and tucked him in, just as she reached the door, a little voice called out again._

"_Mom." He was quieter this time._

"_What else did Alex say?" She questioned._

_Daniel said nothing, but raised a hand to point at the closet in his room. His mother rolled her eyes, understanding, and walked to the closet. "No we've been over this haven't we?" Daniel nodded. "There are no monsters." He nodded again as she put her hand to the doorknob. She turned it slowly and opened it, peering into the dark recesses of the cupboard._

"_BOO!"_

_Claire screamed and jumped back as her eight year old son flew out the closet at her. Alex ran across the room and jumped on the bed with Daniel, who was now screeching with laughter and clutching his stomach._

_Claire turned around, her hand on her heart and breathing heavily and watched as her two sons high fived. "Boys! That is not funny!"_

_The two boys paid her no heed and continued rolling on the bed, convulsed with laughter, extremely pleased with the prank they had played. Watching her children, she couldn't stay stern when they were so happy and she found herself joining in their amusement. "Right, very goods, you played your little trick on Mommy; now, back to your room, Alex."_

_Alex pulled one of his little brother's pillows out from under his head and put it at the foot of the bed, slipping under the covers. "Nope, sleepover." He grinned._

"_Alex..."_

"_Mom pleeeease." Daniel whined._

_She rolled her eyes. "Fine! But sleep!" She walked over and drew the covers around Alex, kissing him on the head, before going to the other end of the bed and mirroring her actions with Daniel. For the second time, she tried to leave but this time two quiet voices called for her._

"_What now? Have you roped the housekeeper into jumping out from under the bed?"_

_The boys laughed, Alex pointed to the open closet door. "The monsters can't get in if you keep the door closed."_

_Claire smiled at her sons' innocence and closed the door. "There, no monsters now."_

"_But what if they come back?" Daniel piped up._

"_It doesn't matter if they do, because I'm here and I'll never let anything happen to you."_

"_But what if you're not here?"_

_She smiled across the room at the two people who brought her more joy than anything in the world. "I'll always be here."_

But she wouldn't, she was gone and she wasn't coming back; Daniel had been playing every childhood memory he could conjure, in his head. It hurt him how few he could remember, also how little they made him cry. He felt it was an insult to his mother's memory, was he all cried out, was three days all the tears his own mother warranted?

He was back where he wanted, he was in his home, Wilhelmina was there and he was there at her invitation. Trouble was, she was in her room with another man and he was only here because he'd lost his mother. The thought of Wilhelmina with Sawyer, didn't trouble him as much as it should have. He didn't have room in his head to visit that particular pain tonight.

Maybe in the morning.

_No one knows what it's like  
>To feel these feelings<br>Like I do  
>And I blame you<em>

The next morning dawned too soon; Wilhelmina hadn't slept, she had lain awake listening to the gentle snores of the two other presences on the bed. Hudson was curled in a tight ball at the base of the bed and Sawyer was curled into her, his arm tight around her, as if afraid she would be gone when he woke.

She carefully peeled his arm from around her and turned the alarm off before the shrill sounds had a chance to pierce the air. She walked to the bathroom, pausing to look at the dress she had hung out the night before, she didn't want to put it on, she didn't want to go to the damn church. It was the last Friday of the month.

She wanted to go to lunch with her friend.

She took the dress into her adjoining bathroom and closed the door. Out of nowhere, she was assaulted by images she hadn't revisited in months, of her and Daniel in this room. Of the violence and hate that had spewed from them that day, it seemed so far removed from where they were now, like a lifetime ago. The pain they had felt then seemed so trivial now, compared to the loss of life.

She ran the faucet and washed her face, her moves were robotic as she completed her morning ritual. Same as every other morning, except today something was very, very different. While everyone else was going to work, visiting with family, living, she would be putting her friend to rest.

She took extra care of her appearance, her make-up was applied with almost surgical precision, each brush stroke to her hair tamed it into sleek perfection. Claire was a woman who deserved nothing more than perfection; no matter had their relationship ended with the two of them in the friendship they had built, or the animosity they once shared, that fact remained true.

She slipped on the long sleeved black dress, which stopped just below her knee, pulled the matching fitted jacket over the top and wove the dark Hermes scarf around her neck. She surveyed her reflection. She looked exactly what she was; a woman going to a funeral. Her eyes began to sting and she looked upwards, stemming the torrent. Again, she could hear her voice as if she were right behind her.

"_Cut it out, this day is about me, we don't have all day to wait about while you refill the cracks in your face."_

Despite the pain she felt, she smiled. "I'm coming you old broad."

Straightening her outfit, she walked out the room to find Sawyer waiting for her, dressed already in his black suit. He had gelled his unruly hair back in a slick and was fidgeting with his hands. She walked to him and placed the flat of her hands on his chest. "Thank you." She went on tip toe and gave him a light peck to his lips. "About Daniel, for not making a big deal, I know it's abnormal and stupid but-"

"I know."

"Today, it's going to be rough. He's going to need me, I don't want you to thi-"

He grabbed her hand and held it tight, forcing her eyes to his. "Willie, _I know._" He reiterated.

Wilhelmina ran her free hand down the side of his face and smiled in thanks at his understanding. "I'm gonna just run down the stairs with the little man and let him do his...you know." Sawyer whistled between his teeth and the dog jumped to attention and followed him from the room.

Wilhelmina looked upward, now alone in the room. "I swear Claire, you better not be up there." She looked down. "You better be right down there waiting, 'cos when I get down there I'm gonna kick your worn out ass for leaving like you did."

She opened the door and found herself looking into the tired, yet amused eyes of her ex-husband, also already dressed in the customary black suit. "Talking to her huh? Yeah I did that too...doesn't help like people tell you it does, does it?"

"No it doesn't." She took a step back and he remained on the threshold, digging his hands deep in his pockets and rocking on his toes.

"How did you sleep?" She asked, it seemed the polite thing to do and she had never had more trouble speaking to him than right now. Communication between them had always been easy, even at the height of their argumentative days. Now every word was forced and contrived.

"Didn't. You?"

"Same."

He nodded. "We still need to talk Wilhelmina; about Amanda, Sawyer...us."

"Now's not the time." She sighed, expecting this.

"I think now's exactly the time, if this has shown us anything it's that we never know when we might go."

She couldn't deny his words, but she wanted to. She opened her mouth but was saved from speaking by a knock at the door. As Wilhelmina walked to open it, she turned back to her ex. "I'm not saying we won't talk...just not now."

She opened the door, expecting to see Sawyer, having forgotten his key, or Marc to tell her the cars had arrived. She didn't recognise the man stood on her doorstep.

"I'm sorry, this is a bad time."

"Ms Slater, I'm Fire Marshall Klein; I'm the chief investigator for the incident at Meade publications. May I come in for a moment. I promise I won't take up a lot of your time, I realise this is a difficult situation."

Willie nodded and stood back to let the man in. As he entered, he nodded to Daniel who had appeared behind Wilhelmina.

"Have you found the source of the fire?" Daniel asked him.

"Not as of yet no, it was a large building, there's a lot to go through. I'm here to tell you that the personal items of your mother that we recovered are being held at the Police station...in case a criminal investigation is launched. If they are not required as evidence they will be returned to you."

"Criminal investigation?"

"Evidence?" Daniel and Willie spoke together.

"Are you telling us the fire was deliberate? That someone...someone _killed_ my mom?" Daniel asked, his anger building rapidly.

The Fire Marshall held his hands up in front of him. "No we're not saying that. Not at all, I'm just letting you know that we cannot rule out arson at this time."

"Well...well why are you keeping her things? They're _her_ things, I don't want them sitting in some grubby police locker!" Daniel knew he was being irrational, but he didn't need this right now.

"Mr Meade, please calm down, It's just procedure. Her purse, shoes and jacket were found on the third floor stairwell and-"

"Wait." Daniel stopped the man. "The paramedics said they pulled her out of the eighteenth floor stairs. Why was her stuff way down on the third?"

"Most likely she went back up."

Daniel scoffed. "Yes most people tend to run back into a burning building. Why the hell would she go back?"

"What...what floor was I found on?" Willie asked, her voice quiet as a whisper.

The man looked at her, puzzled. "You were found together."

Wilhelmina subconsciously rubbed her back where she knew she had bruises beneath her clothes, she assumed she had gotten them from falling down the stairs after she blacked out. She hadn't fallen down them; someone had dragged her down.

"Me Daniel...she...she went back in for me."

Daniel wordlessly turned to her, his face a mask of sheer shock. His mother had lost her own life by going to the aid of the woman, who years ago she more than likely would have been happy to see burn. Had she not went back in, then Wilhelmina would certainly be dead, having passed out on the upper floors where the fire raged worst. Wilhelmina would have died.

But his mother wouldn't have.

Their eyes locked, a multitude of emotions washing over them both; guilt, gratitude, humility, pain and something Daniel didn't quite want to admit to himself. Wilhelmina felt her stomach constrict as the implications of the revelation sunk in, and she tore her eyes away from Daniel's, not able to stand his stare on her a moment longer.

A figure appeared in the open doorway, behind the Fire Marshall. Marc could read his friend better than most, almost as well as Daniel, and knew the look on her face meant more bad news. Well that bad news, for the moment, would have to wait.

"Daniel...Willie...the cars are here."

_No one bites back as hard  
>On their anger<br>None of my pain and woe  
>Can show through<em>

The drive to the service would never have been a pleasant one, but the information they had just garnered made it more fraught than either of them foresaw. Wilhelmina wished they had all travelled in one car. She was alone in this one with Daniel while DJ and Alexis travelled in the second one. Betty, Marc and even Sawyer had been invited to ride in the cars but none had felt it appropriate and had made other arrangements.

Neither had the courage to speak to the other anymore, Daniel was staring down at the floor of the car and rhythmically clenching and unclenching the fabric on his suit trousers. Wilhelmina stared out the window. Both resolutely refused to look forward, at the hearse that travelled in front of the car.

Wilhelmina couldn't take it anymore, the silence was drowning her. She needed to know what was going through his head. Did he blame her? She knew she blamed herself, Claire died trying to save her, it was pretty clear cut in her opinion; but she needed to know what Daniel thought, she needed to hear his words of comfort or condemnation.

"Daniel..."

When he looked at her, it was all she could do to keep it together; she had vowed to be the strong one for him today, but the blame she saw in his eyes when he looked at her threatened her composure.

"No." His voice was low and authoritative, but not unkind. "Not now...let's say goodbye to her first."

She swallowed the lump in her throat and nodded, returning to look outside. The lump in her throat rose again when she felt his hand reach across the seat and clasp her own.

_But my dreams  
>They aren't as empty<br>As my conscience seems to be_

Daniel couldn't take in anything the minister was saying; he was sure it was the usual diatribe, trotted out at every funeral. The deceased was painted as a saint, some spiel about sitting at God's right hand, about how she was in a better place. How could that cold box he was staring at be better than the loving embrace of her family?

Before he knew it, the pallbearers were lowering his mother into the ground; a sudden ridiculous notion leapt upon him, he was suddenly the scared little boy he had been and he wanted to throw himself at them, stop them from putting his Mommy in the dark.

He felt ever fibre in his body quake as he watched the coffin descend, how could she be in there? The woman about to be covered in earth and become another faceless plaque in this graveyard had been the lynchpin that held them all together. Him, Alexis, DJ and Wilhelmina, she was the one who kept them all bound when things got rough, she was the rock.

Now she would just be another plaque in this cemetery, scratch that, she didn't even have that. She had been laid to rest next to his father, the only embellishment the plot had was the large marble headstone with the family name emblazoned across it. There would be no lettering above her grave, testifying what a loved wife, mother and friend she was.

Daniel looked down at his side, to where he was gripping Wilhelmina's hand so tightly, he must be cutting off the circulation. Looking at her, he saw she couldn't bring herself to watch her friend be lowered to her final resting place. She had her head dipped and he saw the tears hang from her nose, was she crying for the loss of a friend, a mother-in-law? Or was she crying for her own guilt?

_I want you to watch, watch her go in the earth, watch her go where you fucking sent her._

He snatched his hand away, suddenly sickened by the feel of her skin on his.

"And now, to close to the service, Mrs Meade's eldest child Alexis, has a few parting words."

Alexis stood slowly and everyone watched her walk to the small podium set up at the graveside. She unfolded a piece of paper and her hands began to shake. "If I..." She began, but her quavering voice gave up. She brought a hand to mouth and in a flash her son was by her side, leading her back to her seat. DJ thrust the poem into the ministers hand as they passed.

The minister held it out to Daniel and nodded to him, a sympathetic smile playing on his features. Daniel looked once more at the hole in the ground and back to the minister, shaking his head tightly.

DJ leaned over his mother and uncle. "You go."

"Me? No DJ I-"Willie protested.

"Please...you're family."

She looked deep into the boy's pleading eyes and then to Alexis, who nodded her assent. She got no such affirmation from Daniel but he did not protest. Slowly, and to an array of flashing bulbs, much to her disgust, she stood up and walked to the spot Alexis had vacated. The minister handed her the sheet of paper and she stood behind the podium. Looking round she saw many familiar faces from the fashion world, she saw journalists and media whores all eagerly awaiting her speech. She saw Marc and Amanda side by side and for the first time she didn't want to lunge at the girl. She saw Betty being comforted by her family and her gaze came to rest on the last vestiges of the Meades, holding each others hands for support.

She read the poem through, in her head, twice and lifted her head to the congregation. She opened her mouth to speak the words Alexis had written, but stopped and folded up the paper again. "These words..." She began. "Are beautiful, I know Claire would have been touched to hear them...but not from me."

"The relationship I had with Claire Meade can't be summed up by a few words. If you'd like me to try then I suggest you settle yourself in for a good few days of storytelling. I'm sure I don't have to tell you all of how Claire and I once felt with each other, the last time we all gathered here...I ended up the one in the ground." She toyed with the scarf around her neck. "And in fact, I think she once tried to strangle me with this very scarf; but today is not the day to recount all the ways in which we hurt each other, today is the day I remember Claire and pay tribute to the too short a time we spent as friends. I count myself as equally lucky and foolish; lucky that I am one of the few people that can truly count her as a friend and foolish that I realised it too late. She accepted me in to her home, her family and eventually I think we even let each other into our hearts."

She paused and cleared her throat, hating the raw emotion that all could see, but owing it to her friend to continue. "In dying...she gave me the gift of life. She saved me that day. What I only realised a short time ago was; she already saved me, she saved me the day she let me be a Meade."

She walked around the side of the podium and back towards her seat, she stopped at the graveside and looked down at the gleaming mahogany wood on the surface of the coffin. Willie brought her hand up to her neck and felt the silk of the fabric glide through her fingers. She slipped the scarf off and let it fall from her hand, watching as the breeze caught it slightly before it floated down into the grave, landing on the shining plate.

_**Claire Meade**_

_**1948 – 2013**_

_I have hours, only lonely  
>My love is vengeance<br>That's never free_

For the first time, Wilhelmina realised how truly predatory and despicable people in her business were; she used to pride herself on the fact that these were adjectives she could describe herself with, but when she took a step back, she realised it was by no means just her, the other were more subtle about it, that's all.

The wake had emptied fairly quickly, once the story-hungry journalists realised there would be no scoop, that people were here purely to mourn, they quickly dissipated. The old harpies who had the audacity to call Claire a friend had got their fill from the free bar and canapés and moved on also.

People had been coming up to her throughout the day, thanking her for her words, most of them clearly believing none of it, but she didn't give a damn. What she had said at the grave side was not for them, it was for Claire.

What she had really wanted to say though, was why? She wanted her old sparring partner to get up for one last fight, so she could ask her just why she'd been so fucking stupid. She wanted to rage and scream at Claire for leaving her with this guilt and a debt she could never repay.

Neither Sawyer, nor Daniel came near her at the wake; save for Sawyer briefly greeting her and telling her she did good at the funeral. Sawyer had chosen to be respectful of Claire, and distance himself from her until the gawping spectators were all gone. Daniel wouldn't come near her for an entirely different reason.

It had been a long day, as the last of the so called mourners left the wake, Wilhelmina stared after them and dimly wondered when it had become evening. She felt a hand gently pull on her elbow.

"Let's go for a walk."

_When my fist clenches, crack it open  
>Before I use it and lose my cool<br>When I smile, tell me some bad news  
>Before I laugh and act like a fool<em>

Daniel walked down the side of the river, kicking the gravel at his feet, saying nothing. Wilhelmina matched his slow, easy stride and maintained a similar silence. They stopped at the railing on a bridge over the water, from the corner of his eye, he saw Wilhelmina shiver. Without speaking to her, he took his jacket off and draped it over her shoulders, she slipped her arms inside the sleeves and pulled it tight around her; trying not to inhale too deeply as his scent surrounded her.

Daniel bent at the waist and picked up a handful of stones. He leaned back and whipped one from his hand, skimming it across the water's edge. He repeated this several times, he didn't speak and Willie didn't push him. He brought his hand back again to throw a stone across the water, when he stopped, looking at the small rock in his hand, he threw it in the air and caught it, his eyes following it as it rose in the air and fell into his hand, as he continued the act.

"Do you know what I felt...when they first told me my Mom was dead?"

"What?" Her voice was barely working after hours of not being used.

"I didn't care." He gave a rueful little chuckle, still staring at the stone. "In fact I daresay for the briefest second...I was even _glad_."

Wilhelmina didn't respond, she had a feeling he didn't want her to.

"I didn't care about my own mother dying...because it meant you were alive. It was only for a second, but it was there. I keep telling myself that it was better her than you, she was older, she had lived...she had loved. Yeah better my own mother lies in the ground than the woman who has systematically ripped my heart out and stamped on it over the past few months...or years depending on how you look at it. Do you have any idea of the guilt that eats you up when you realise you've wished your own mother dead?"

He skimmed another stone violently across the river. "And then I find out she could have lived, she could have survived had she not went in for you...had you not retreated to your little fucking sanctuary, my mother would have got out of the building. If you had never married me and built a bond with her then maybe she wouldn't have gone back in for you even if you were there."

Willie unfolded her arms and the oversized jacket flapped in the wind. "You want to blame me Daniel...go ahead, blame me, you're right. You want to wish it was me instead of her, then do it, it probably should have been! You want me to say I wish it had been? Fine! I wish she had never stepped foot back in that building, I wish the stupid old woman had stood on the sidewalk taking a lungful of clean air and watched Meade burn."

Daniel whirled round. "NO! No, this isn't how this is supposed to go! You're supposed to turn it back on me. You're supposed to blame ME! If I had never cheated, we woulda been home, if Sawyer and I had never forced you to choose...you would never have ran to Mode! It's MY fault, you think I really want you dead? That I could ever wish that? I'm so sick of telling you I love you that I'm gonna have to think of a new way to say it. If it wasn't for me cheating then you wouldn't have divorced me, If it wasn't for me then you would never have even met that great big fucking Southern ass; if it wasn't for me Amanda would not be this crazy delusional mess, Fey would have stayed dead, Marc wouldn't loathe the very sight of me, Betty wouldn't have had to disrupt her life, you would still want me and...she would still be alive!"

Willie took a step forward. "Daniel you can't think like that. You can't possibly blame every bad thing that happens on that one night, you can't keep carrying around the guilt Daniel, it's killing you."

"What choice do I have? Either I accept my part in this and drive myself crazy...or I..."

"You what, Daniel?"

He sighed. "Or I let myself feel what my body is screaming to feel every time I look at you and I realise she died so you could live, in those moments...in those fleeting irrational moments...I hate you...I blame you...I...I wish it was you."

Willie couldn't feel the chill in the air anymore, not when her veins had turned to ice. She took off the jacket he had given her and draped it over the railing at the side. Walking to face him slowly, she brought her hand up to the side of his face and leaned in, bringing her lips to his softly She moved her mouth to his ear. "Then hate me." She whispered.

She stepped back from him and Daniel could see the top of the scar peeking out from the low neck of her dress. "Willie...wait...I didn't..."

She nodded, biting her lip, blinking and sending a solitary tear down her cheek. "Yes Daniel...you did." She turned and walked away.

Daniel watched her retreat, sure he could see her shoulders shake as she did. He wanted to go after her and tell her he didn't mean it. He wanted to have the conversation they had almost had that morning.

_If I swallow anything evil  
>Put your finger down my throat<br>If I shiver, please give me a blanket  
>Keep me warm, let me wear your coat<em>

"What the hell did you do to her?" The voice hissed low and ominous as he pushed open the apartment door.

The hallway was in darkness, reaching out he turned on the light and saw Sawyer staring at him from the other end of the hall, he had obviously been waiting on him and was mad as hell. Daniel ignored him and walked down the hall. Sawyer instantly blocked his path. "I asked you a question."

"And I'm ignoring you. It's between me and my wife."

"EX-WIFE!"

"Whatever, you wanna know so badly, then go and ask her."

"I would, only she didn't come back. I got a call about twenty minutes ago from your sister, she's with her at your Mom's place. Said she knew you couldn't see her and she didn't want to make you go back to that house...she's still thinking of you, you son of a bitch. Now I'll ask you again, what did you do?" Sawyer was physically shaking.

Daniel smirked at the man. "I'll tell you again, it's between me and my _wife_." He stalked past him. "If it's any consolation..." He called over his shoulder. "I think I just made her choice for her. You win."

He walked into the lounge and heard the front door slam. He plucked the stopper out of a decanter of scotch and poured himself a measure into one of the crystal goblets someone he couldn't even remember had given them as a wedding gift. He sat down on the couch and patted the dog which had bounded over to join him and curled at his side.

Pressing the button on the remote, he watched the false front of the cabinet roll back and reveal the television behind it. He switched the screen on and froze.

"_Due to the tragedy that has recently presented itself, not only in the demise of Claire Meade, but in the personal lives of her son and Mode's Editor-In-Chief, Wilhelmina Slater; I felt it was time to make my presence known."_

The flashes from the camera on the screen, reflected in the woman's dark sunglasses as the journalists before her sat in rapt attention; unable to fully take in the fashion scoop of the century. Daniel stood slowly from the couch, an invisible rubber band tightening across his chest.

"_There are many reasons for my disappearance all those years ago, none which I care to go into now...but I can assure you my story will, as always, go to the highest bidder. And now, although it is with a heavy heart that I do this, for so much unpleasantness has had to happen before we reached this point, I would like to announce that it is my intention to return to my rightful place at Mode magazine."_

A disbelieving murmur swept across the audience watching her.

"_How will I do this, you may ask? Well I'm sure once the initial shock has worn off, both Daniel and Wilhelmina will realise what a savvy move it is to have me on board, in charge rather. And that I alone can bring a silver lining to this tragedy."_ She smirked to the camera. _"Like a phoenix rising from the ashes."_

Daniel switched the set off and stood rooted to the spot, shaking with rage. He knew, in that instant, that he and Wilhelmina could blame themselves and each other all they wanted; but it was neither of their faults. It was Fey's, she did it all for a comeback, the glass in his hand smashed under his grip.

Fey killed his mother.

He would have to repay the favour.

_No one knows what it's like  
>To be the bad man<br>To be the sad man  
>Behind blue eyes<em>


	27. Love The Way You Lie

**Love The Way You Lie**

_Just gonna stand there and watch me burn  
>But that's alright because I like the way it hurts<br>Just gonna stand there and hear me cry  
>But that's alright because I love the way you lie<br>I love the way you lie_

The press conference had not lasted long, just like she'd wanted it. It had to be quick, shocking, and then she would just go back in the shadows waiting for the call she knew would arrive. Her sister's apartment was empty and silent, the only light coming from the small lamp by the couch on which she was sitting, amazed by her own work.

How perfect, how clever, and how incredibly fortunate that Claire Meade had decided to die the same week she announced her big return to life. It couldn't have been better.

The door to the apartment opened up and slammed back shut; Fey heard the heavy footsteps down the hallway and when they stopped she knew she was not alone.

"What did you do?" came the voice from the threshold.

She turned her head and saw her sister looking at her, on her face was a complex mixture of emotion: admiration, shock, disgust, incredulousness. As Julia looked at her, she realized she had all the answers for the first time since she'd gotten back. She didn't care about being loved, she never had. Actually, the only time she had cared for it, she had been rejected. Then, why care? Why bother, when it pays so much more to be feared?

And what better place to be feared, if not Mode, the magazine she had created with her hard work, the magazine that had come together through her years of loneliness. What better time than this, now she could come back and be the savior, the guiding light to bring the magazine back after the tragedy. And what better revenge, than doing it now that the one person who had always tried to take it all from her was buried six feet under, no longer able to be the ever present thorn in her side.

"I think you know," she replied, looking at her sister with a small smirk. "Aren't you proud? But then again, I don't really care what your feelings are."

"All the hard work, all the effort…All the lies, Fey. All the lies I had to tell, all the lies you told me. Why now? Is it because Claire Meade is dead?" Julia said, hitting a nerve. "Is this your sick idea of vengeance?"

Fey snorted. "Please, Julia, you underestimate me. You really think I would stoop so low?"

"Frankly, yes I do," was the cold reply, and Fey could see why she would say something like that. "Why Fey? Why add insult to injury? Haven't they suffered enough? Are you never going to stop hating them?"

Fey jolted up, controlled by something she couldn't really understand. The anger that she had suppressed came back to the surface, multiplied by a million. She circled the sofa and stood in front of her sister, her hands clenched into fists.

"I'm taking back what's mine. I'm taking what's been taken from me; I'm taking what was promised to me! Don't you understand I'm not the one who's hating, here? They hate me! They have always hated me, they feel threatened by my mere existence! The reason I came back, the only reason I came back to this lost land of pain, was to lend a helping hand to my daughter. MY DAUGHTER. And they shut me out. They kicked me out of their lives, as if I was nothing but a disposable piece of furniture. That's not how it works, that's not who I am! And now, they're going to pay. Now, I'm gonna take what's theirs. I'm gonna take every little piece of happiness left, I'm going to take all that remains and make it mine. They're going to be nothing, once I'm done with them, you hear me? NOTHING!"

Now she was breathing hard, and her hands were shaking; she remained under her sister's scrutiny feeling more vulnerable than she was comfortable showing.

"Fey, the pain you have inside…" Julia said, shaking her head. "I never knew. You're hurt."

Fey looked away, realizing the momentary slip had caused her defenses to tumble down, making her the target of easy guessing. "There's no need for compassion," she said, regaining her composure, retreating back behind the wall of steel she had been so keen on building around her, shielding herself from everyone.

"This is not compassion, Fey," Julia said, taking a step forward towards her sister. "I'm concerned. I'm worried for you. What is it, Fey? What is eating you inside?" Fey didn't answer, but kept her gaze stoically on her sister. "Fey, did you have something to do with what happened at Mode?"

The woman didn't answer, instead opting for a small chuckle.

"Tell me you didn't…"

Julia's voice trailed off and she took in the possibility that her sister had just stepped over the line between hate and crime, a line that had become so blurry, over the years of the Meade/Sommers feud.

"Fey, how could you?"

Fey opened her mouth to talk, but got interrupted by the brusque ringing of her cell phone. Both Julia and she snapped their heads in the direction the sound was coming from, the coffee table in the middle of the room, and their eyes fell on the blinking screen, too far to recognize the ID of the caller.

Fey let it ring.

"Aren't you going to answer that?" Julia asked, the previous softness gone after the revelation her sister might well be a murderer.

Fey smiled and walked slowly to where the mobile was ringing insistently. She stared down at the screen and the smile became a pure grin. Her hand closed around the device and brought it closer to watch it more closely. The phone kept ringing.

She snapped it open and lifted it to her ear. "Hello," she drawled. "I was expecting your call."

_I can't tell you what it really is, I can only tell you what it feels like,  
>and right now there's a steel knife in my windpipe.<br>I can't breathe but I still fight, while I can fight  
>As long as the wrong feels right it's like I'm in flight.<br>High of a love, drunk from the hate, it's like I'm huffing paint.  
>And I love it the more I suffer, I suffocate<br>And right before I'm about to drown, she resuscitates me  
>She fucking hates me<br>And I love it_

The main room dining table, the twelve chairs placed around it, the three couches in the room, it all seemed very empty. Wilhelmina sat at the head of the table, looking at the surroundings, taking in how big it looked tonight, much bigger than any other day. She remembered how she had fought when Claire had insisted on having Christmas parties over at the big house, complaining it was _too small for parties_. Funny how now, instead, it looked too big even for a party of hundreds.

Every corner of the room, every piece of furniture seemed to bring a recollection of her past, her past with Daniel, with Claire, with Bradford, and it seemed unlikely how the Meades had affected her life throughout the years.

There, at the same table, was where she and Daniel had sat down to tell Claire about their intentions. The couch nearest to the fireplace was where she and Claire had spoken openly about Bradford just before the wedding. And Wilhelmina could almost see the three of them, she, Claire and Daniel, sitting at the other end of the table, Daniel in between the two women, telling them they would be having lunch every last Friday of the month because he _"couldn't stand the idea the two women I love the most are secretly thinking of ways to kill each other."_

She smiled at the memories, which seemed to come unexpectedly the more she tried to shut her mind. It seems no matter how she tried not to think, Claire was everywhere telling her she would be with her forever, not letting her go.

"_You think I'll stop bugging you? You're so wrong."_

"DJ's still not feeling better."

Alexis' voice startled her and brought her back from her traveling; she looked up and saw Alexis moving a chair and sitting at her left. She wanted to tell her to get up, because Claire was the one who usually sat at her left, but to what use? Claire would no longer be sitting next to her.

"This thing is taking its toll on him," Alexis whispered, brushing a strand from her eyes and then leaning with her forehead against her palms. "I don't know what to do."

Wilhelmina opened her mouth to say something, but decided that maybe it was not a question, maybe Alexis was not looking for advice.

"How are you feeling?" she asked instead, studying the woman's shoulders.

"Like I'm down there with her," Alexis answered, not looking up.

"Alexis, I'm so sorry," Wilhelmina said for the umpteenth time.

"Don't," the other woman said. "Please, don't. I don't…I can't hear one more _I'm sorry_. I know you are. It's not your fault though. If she had wanted to live, she wouldn't have gone back, you know that. She was perfectly aware what she was facing, when she went back up the stairs. She knew and she did it all the same."

"That doesn't comfort me," Wilhelmina insisted, shaking her head. "I'm the reason-"

"You're not the reason she died," Alexis stated, looking dead into her former sister-in-law's eyes. "You're the reason she chose to come back, and that makes all the difference."

Wilhelmina dropped it, hearing it in Alexis' tone she didn't want to think about how her mother would still be alive, had she not gone back. Was she blaming her, just like Daniel had just that afternoon? Was the death of Claire Meade the end of the short-lived association with the Meade family? Had that fire eaten more than just the hallways of Mode? Had it burnt down all they'd built too?

"I should go," she tried, moving to get up, but Alexis' hand shot out and grabbed hers, forcing her to sit back down.

"Don't go," Alexis pleaded, and her voice was breaking despite the attempts of reining it in. "I don't want to be alone, and I can't unload all this shit on DJ. He's had too much, for a nineteen year old."

Wilhelmina faced the other way when she heard the sharp knocking at the door. Who could it be, this late in the evening? Daniel? Marc? Sawyer? And why were they here, when she'd made it clear she wasn't in the mood for company? She slipped her hand from Alexis' grasp and with a whispered "I'll take that," she left the room, heading for the entrance door.

When she opened it up, it was to see the last person she would ever want to see that night.

"What do you want?" she hissed, her hand clutching tightly at the doorknob.

"Oh, I think you know why I'm here," Fey answered. "And I'm glad to say I accept."

Wilhelmina looked confused, and Fey's expression faltered slightly too, as if doubting her own presence there, starting to maybe put together the pieces of a twisted plan mastered by someone wiser than them all. Someone angry, someone who had known exactly what he was doing.

"Daniel told me you were ready to give me the position of Editor-in-Chief," Fey said. "Which, clearly, you know nothing about. Is this a joke?"

"Fey, I have no idea what you're talking about," Wilhelmina said truthfully, not having the strength to put up a fight with the long lost mentor and nemesis.

"I do."

The voice came from behind Fey, who spun around clearing the view for Wilhelmina too. They had barely time to open their mouths before Daniel could brush past them and into the house, turning into the hallway to stare at them.

"I think it's time we settle this," he said, the darkness in his eyes scaring them both. "For good."

_"Wait, where you goin'?" "I'm leavin' you," "No you ain't, come back!"  
>We're runnin' right back, here we go again<br>So insane, cause when it's goin' good it's goin' great  
>I'm superman with the wind at his back, she's Lois Lane<br>But when it's bad it's awful, I feel so ashamed I snap  
>Whose that dude? I don't even know his name<br>I laid hands on her, I'll never stoop so low again  
>I guess I don't know my own strength<em>

"I'm confused," Wilhelmina said, her eyes hidden behind her hand as she tried to recollect her thoughts. "You did a press conference? Why did you?" she asked, looking up at Fey.

"Because it's time I step back into my old position Wilhelmina," Fey said, proudly. "You did a good job, but you'll never exceed the master. You were good, nonetheless, but you'll never be me."

"Thank God," she whispered. "Fey, why now? This is not the…We just lost a member of our family. How dare you sweep in here and spring this on us? Have you no respect at all?"

Fey shrugged. "You'll admit it's not exactly like Claire and I were the best of friends."

Meanwhile, Daniel and Alexis were sitting on the couch, holding each other's hand. Alexis had been silent ever since Fey had walked into the room; the memory of her mother's cold body was too fresh to understand the presence of a ghost in her house. Or what was supposed to be a ghost, when it now seemed like she was the more alive of them all.

Daniel had been awfully quiet ever since the few cryptic words he had spoken upon his arrive. He held his sister's hand in his laps, but his gaze was fixed upon Fey's back, undecipherable.

"You're never going to come back at Mode, Fey," Wilhelmina said, her voice low and controlled but on the edge of losing it. "You've done enough, you've brought nothing to us."

"Oh you see, I don't know about that," Fey said, with a small smirk. "I've had a word with a few people. See, the damages the fire has caused, apparently, are more serious than any of you imagine. It caused Meade Publishing to lose a lot, in terms of finances. And I'm not sure the company will be able to sustain the empire of a magazine such as Mode. And given that in the past months you and your…Romeo, here, have been more occupied with your private lives than business…I'm not sure you'll be able to keep the company afloat without a conspicuous income of money."

Wilhelmina narrowed her eyes at the woman, seeing the target she was aiming at.

"I'm afraid you're going to have to sell Mode, dear," Fey concluded, triumphantly. "And when you do, you think another company won't see the advantages in hiring the most famous of Mode's editors? And one with a history of death and resurrection, too! It'll be the greatest comeback since…"

"…Jesus," Wilhelmina finished for her, and fear overtook her when the sentence hit too close to home, when in that woman, eager and vindictive, she could see herself years earlier.

She needed air. She couldn't breathe, it felt like someone was gripping her stomach viciously and squeezing harder and harder, the lump was threatening to have the best on her.

"I hardly think so."

Daniel had stood up, leaving Alexis on the couch and walking slowly but determined towards the shorter but incredibly stronger, at least emotionally, woman. He stopped when they were toe to toe.

"Fey, I'm not my father. I may not be as authoritative, as stubborn and powerful. I may be the most scared person in the world right now. I've always been weaker-"

"Oh, Danny, don't be so hard on yourself," the woman snickered.

"But I'm not that person tonight. I'm not weak, because I'm angry. I'm furious, because my mother is dead, and she's never going to come back. I'll never see her again, Fey. Never. And you know what happens to a son, when his mother is taken away from him?"

Wilhelmina stepped unconsciously forwards, closer to Daniel and Fey, knowing nothing good could come out of this. She had never seen Daniel lose control like that. He had no light in him, no reason or sense of reality. He was lost in his pain, and she knew from the place he was in reality was hard to keep in sight.

"He becomes dangerous, Fey. A son who loses his mother becomes the most dangerous person in the world," he continued, his voice lowering to a whisper, so that only Fey could hear him. Even Wilhelmina who was still so close, could barely hear a word he was saying. "Especially when someone thinks they had the right to take her from him. Do you hear me Fey?"

Wilhelmina swore he could see a flash in Fey's eyes, and it was a matter of seconds before she saw Daniel's hands shoot out to grab the woman's arm and the other one lunge for her neck. Fey cried out, surprised and horrorstruck.

Wilhelmina had mere seconds to act and she launched herself forward, grabbing both Daniel's hands before he could hurt the woman, and struggled to push him back.

"DANIEL!" she yelled, but Daniel's eyes were too blank for him to be listening to anything. "DANIEL, STOP!" she yelled again, as her body threatened to give up the fight, Daniel was too strong for her to keep him. Alexis was too petrified on the couch to come to her aid, and just witnessed the scene with vitreous eyes.

"DANIEL, FOR GOD'S SAKE, LISTEN TO ME!" she yelled again, with a forceful tug, and thankfully the man stopped fighting and laid his eyes on her. What she saw in there was enough to make a small piece in her break for the pain of the lost boy who was before her. "Daniel," she repeated, lowering her voice, now in between Daniel and Fey, squeezing both Daniel's wrists at her sides and leaning her forehead against his. "It's ok, Daniel. It's ok. Calm down."

Daniel closed his eyes. "She killed her. She killed my mother. This was her plan all along. She wanted her gone, she caused the fire, she wanted Mode. She never came for Amanda, it was Mode, it has always been Mode."

Wilhelmina's grip on Daniel's wrists decreased as once again she was overcome with memories of a night so similar to this one, only that time they were in her apartment. That time Fey and Claire had been squared off against each other. That time Claire had told Fey to go, and leave them all live their lives in peace.

"_I only wish that god damn perfume had served the purpose for which it was intended."_

"_You'll regret this…one way or another."_

"You," she said, turning around to face Fey, every intention of keeping Daniel forgotten, her own rage replacing the cautiousness. "You did this. You caused the fire. You… You killed Claire."

A phone rang in the back of their minds, and they vaguely registered Alexis standing up and walking, ghost-like to answer.

"I had nothing to do with this," Fey exclaimed, eyes open wide. "I didn't… I would never…"

"You wanted us to pay for not welcoming you back into our lives," Wilhelmina continued, the tone in her voice taking on a desperate edge because knowing Claire had died in an accident was certainly tragic enough, but knowing it was someone's fault, someone's maneuvering that had led to this…it was downright devastating.

Daniel stood behind Wilhelmina, watching Fey's eyes dart from his to hers, panicking. For a second there he thought he saw genuine surprise, but then it was Fey Sommers, the biggest liar of the last century, she was probably trying to disguise the fear of getting caught.

"Because she didn't manage to kill you, you wanted to kill _her_," Wilhelmina continued, her voice shaking in rage.

"Wilhelmina, you have to believe me-"

"HOW CAN I?" Wilhelmina shouted, a tear rolling down her cheek.

And there it was, what she had never wanted to do in front of the woman. All the times, during the years of working alongside her, all those times she had to excuse herself because she couldn't allow herself to cry in front of Fey Sommers. She had sworn to never cry in front of her mentor, because she had never wanted her to see it as a weakness.

It was all useless because now she could do nothing to control it, not when the pain of losing someone was much stronger than any stupid pride she had been prey of.

"Daniel, Wilhelmina…"

The feeble voice caught their attention and they turned around seeing Alexis holding the receiver in her hands, looking as defeated as she'd ever been.

"It was Fire Marshall Klein," she whispered. "They found the source."

Wilhelmina spun on her heels, eyeing Fey dangerously, as if waiting for what Alexis was about to say to have confirmation of their theory and launch herself against the woman. But when those words came, it wasn't at all what she had expected. It was, if anything, the worst of her nightmares coming true.

"There was a malfunctioning in the electrical system," Alexis explained. "They say there must have been signs of it, but that's not possible, is it? I mean, you were at Mode these past months. Everything was alright, wasn't it?"

Wilhelmina's heart missed a beat, and all she could do was turn to face Daniel, who did the same, as the exact same thought came to his mind.

How many times had people warned them there was a glitch? How many times had Betty, Marc, Claire herself told them to get it fixed? How many times had they postponed the intervention, too busy with their own problems to take care of it?

"Daniel? Wilhelmina?" Alexis' voice sounded desperate. Like she was pleading with them not to tell her they had been the indirect cause of her mother's death.

In fact, they had.

_Just gonna stand there and watch me burn  
>Well that's all right because I like the way it hurts<br>Just gonna stand there and hear me cry  
>Well that's all right because I love the way you lie<br>I love the way you lie_

Wilhelmina had called a cab around midnight, and now she and Daniel were riding across town headed back to the apartment. The initial idea of spending the night at the villa with Alexis and DJ had been forgotten; she needed to be with Daniel.

Never had she felt such a strong bond with her husband, and it was a shame it had to be under these circumstances. It wasn't love, nor affection that brought them together: it was guilt, the deepest guilt either had ever experienced.

He hadn't spoken ever since they'd entered the car, and Wilhelmina feared it wasn't just her, it would be hard for him to talk for a long time. He was not there, with her, he was somewhere, in the furthest twists and turns of the mind, no light to guide him back. She was concerned for him, but also knew the best thing was to give him time to cope, before trying to shake him out of his trance. She would, in due time, not now.

She couldn't really hide her relief when the driver killed the engine in front of the building. Tipping him, she held the door open for Daniel, who got out without as much as a glance in her direction. She eyed him worriedly, he didn't seem to be really able to _see_anything at all.

She hurried forward and stood by his side, stealing glances a couple times to see if he gave any sign he didn't want her there, but he didn't. They stepped into the elevator and waited in religious silence as it rode up every floor, slower than any of them remembered.

She asked herself when had she turned so beneficent, where the self-less person had gone, because this crap of being good was sure more painful than her old life, full of evil and scheming, had ever been. When you're on the good side, you're not safe like fairytales preach: villains are safe, the good ones are always the ones who get the short end of the stick.

The elevator doors opened and they walked to the door. Wilhelmina automatically inserted the key into the keyhole, but before she could turn it, it opened wide, revealing a worried Sawyer and an as usual overenthusiastic Hudson: the dog's intention were clear, he wanted to jump on his friends, show them how much he'd missed them, but something stopped him.

Wilhelmina smiled. If even the stubborn dog had gotten the weird vibe about them, she must really look like crap.

Sawyer stepped aside, without a word, and closed the door after letting them in. Daniel kept walking, without a word, down the hallway and disappeared into the guestroom, closing the door softly.

"Has he been like this before?" Sawyer asked, watching down the hallway.

Wilhelmina was staring too, and she shook her head, because she had never seen Daniel like that, certainly not when Bradford had died, not when Sofia had dumped him, not when DJ had turned out not to be his. But she knew the loss of a mother was way more incomprehensible than any other tragedy Daniel had faced in her life.

Suddenly, she felt the urge to call her mother, but she knew she wouldn't. Their relationship was not like Daniel and Claire's had been, actually they just did _not_have a relationship any more. If anything, the only thing resembling a mother figure she'd had was Claire of the last four years.

And Fey, no matter how twisted it might have been.

At the thought of Fey, her stomach turned and she suddenly wished she was alone, in a bathroom, to empty its content. She wanted to throw up and feel as empty inside her body as she felt inside her head and inside her heart. The woman disgusted her, but she had not killed Claire after all. They had, with their mess, their childish revenge, their stupid little mind-fucks.

"Are you ok?" asked Sawyer, placing his hands on her shoulders. She nodded and raised a hand to place it over his, in an implicit thank you, which he understood because he smiled and kissed her temple. "It gets better every day. I know it's not easy, but I promise. It gets a little better every day. Until one day, you wake up and the memory of her won't make you cry, it'll make you smile."

The possibility seemed so remote, to her, how she wished it would be then already. How she wished that the mere thought of the woman who had passed away didn't make her want to cry her eyes out, throw things around, crash every single thing at hand; if only she could just get over the phase of desperation, already, it would spare her the pain of feeling so lost, something she had never been keen on.

"Have you taken Hudson out yet?" she asked, wanting to change subject.

Sawyer shook his head and lifted his hand, in which he was holding the leash. "Was just 'bout to."

"Alright, thank you," she whispered and walked away, leaning over the dog to kiss the top of his head. "Be good," she said, patting his muzzle.

Hudson's tongue darted out, as he tried to reach for Wilhelmina's nose, but she backed in time, chuckling. That little natural disaster was the only thing that seemed to make her heart feel warm once again in the general coldness that surrounded her, penetrating to her bones.

Minutes later, Sawyer and Hudson left the building, and Wilhelmina remained alone in the hallway. She took a glance in the direction of Daniel's door, and decided to ask if he needed something. Standing outside his room, however, she paused, and tried to catch any sound coming from the inside. She couldn't hear a thing, so she knocked.

No answer came, and she knocked again. "Daniel," she murmured. "It's me."

When she still got no answer, damn the courtesy, she opened the door, and found him sitting by the bed. Her heart ached for him. He had taken off his jacket and tie, and had loosened up a button. He was the embodiment of sadness.

"I'm sorry, I just…" she tried to find the right words, but none of it seemed appropriate. "If you need anything, I'm in the other room."

Daniel didn't look up.

Wilhelmina sighed and turned around, ready to leave, but then she stopped and turned to face him again.

"You don't have to go through this alone, Daniel," she said, taking a few steps, hands clasped together. "Maybe you don't want me to be there, and I understand it, I got it after the funeral, but… You need someone. You don't have to be a martyr."

She sat down next to him.

"And as much as you don't want me to help, if you ever change your mind, I'm right beside you."

Daniel looked up, staring across the room, and then turned his head towards her. She frowned when she read the hardness in his gaze, the light blue she had loved so much replaced but a deeper shade she couldn't recognize. He wanted her gone.

She pressed her lips together and nodded curtly, standing up.

"Alright," she whispered, and stalked out of the room, closing the door once again. How the tables had turned, how the cards had changed. Once he was the one who pleaded for her proximity, now she was begging him to let her in, let her help him, and he was shutting her out.

She wished she could talk to the only person who could have talked sense into him. But unfortunately, that person was gone forever.

_You ever loved somebody so much you can barely breathe  
>When you with 'em you meet, and neither one of you even know what hit em<br>Got that warm fuzzy feeling, yeah them chills, used to get 'em  
>Now you're getting fuckin' sick of lookin' at 'em<br>You swore you'd never hit 'em, never do nothin' to hurt 'em  
>Now you're in each other's face spewin' venom in your words when you spit 'em<br>You push pull each other's hair, scratch, claw, hit 'em, throw 'em down, pin 'em  
>So lost in the moments when you're in 'em<br>It's the rage that's the culprit, controls you both_

"_And after the recent shocking news of the formerly-believed-dead Editor in Chief of Mode, Fey Sommers, it's legit for everyone to ask themselves what will be of Meade Publishing, after the tragedy that hit them. Who's gonna take charge of it, who's going to be able to pull the pieces back together? Maybe Fey Sommers was right, maybe they need a third party now with Claire Meade out of the picture, and with Wilhelmina and Daniel deep in their divorce problems... It's going to be a tough year for that company, I'm telling you."_

Amanda turned the tv off Good Morning America and rolled her head back against the headrest. Marc did the same, next to her, and they both stared silently at the ceiling for some time.

"Why would she do that?" Amanda asked. "I don't get her Marc. Every time I think I might be closer to understanding what kind of person she really is, I get disappointed, and find out she's capable of things I would never have pictured her doing. Why is she so screwed up?"

Marc shook his head. "You think she had something to do with the fire?" he asked, voicing Amanda's inner voice.

"Quite frankly, at this point, I don't even know!" the girl answered honestly. "I wish I could tell you she would never do that, but the thought is not that unlikely. You think we should tell Daniel and Alexis?"

"No," Marc said. "I'm pulling myself out of this mess. Too many people have been hurt, too many lives have been damaged beyond repair. I'm not going to be the one prolonging it. What we all need is to put everything behind us. Go on with our lives."

"How many times have I hard you say that, in the last months?" Amanda asked herself.

"I lost count, honestly."

"And how many times it was all tarnished by some deep dark stain all over again?" Amanda continued.

"Please, rub more salt in my wounds, it doesn't hurt enough," Marc exclaimed, but he was grinning.

"Maybe I should talk to her?" Amanda asked, returning serious. "Ask her myself if she has anything to do with this. And if she doesn't… Maybe, now that the whole Daniel ordeal is over, I can try and make room for her in my life."

"If that's what you want, I'm right there with you," he said, grabbing her hand. "But don't raise your expectations too high. She might not want what you're offering. And that's something she will be missing out on, not you. Clear?"

"Crystal clear."

_So they say it's best to go your separate ways,__guess that they don't know ya  
>Cause today that was yesterday, yesterday is over, it's a different day<br>Sound like broken records playin' over  
>But you promised her next time you'll show restraint<br>You don't get another chance, life is no Nintendo game, but you lied again  
>Now you get to watch her leave out the window<br>Guess that's why they call it window pane_

The morning after, when Wilhelmina entered her kitchen, she found Sawyer sitting at the counter, sipping from a coffee mug, reading the newspaper. She looked around and, taking her own risk, she sighed. "Have you seen Daniel this morning?"

Sawyer lowered the newspaper, and looked at her for a while before answering. "Good morning to you too, and no, he's not come out of the den yet."

"Sawyer…"

"No, it's ok, I'm sorry, this arrangement just makes me a bit nervous, but that's not your fault, that's me," he explained, smiling sadly. "I talked to Daniel yesterday. I apologized for being an ass, and he seemed to take it well."

"You talked to Daniel?" Wilhelmina asked, lifting an eyebrow.

"Yeah, I had time to think and I was rude yesterday, and after all he's been through it was not my place to-"

"No no," she cut him off. "What I meant is, he talked to you?" she asked.

"Yeah?"

She snorted and shook her head. "I heard him talking on his phone, passing by his room," she explained. "Seems like the only one he doesn't want to talk to, is me," she concluded with an irritated tone.

"Maybe he's just…trying to deal with this one step at a time."

"No, Sawyer," she said, patronizingly. "He's not talking to me, because he blames me for his mother's death. As if I'm not doing that enough, beating myself up, I don't need his silent treatment."

"You can't force him to speak to you, Willie," Sawyer said, unimpressed by her snappish tone. "He'll do it, once he's ready."

"No, he'll do it now," she said, storming out and walking determinedly down the corridor. She didn't knock, and entered without a question. He was facing the mirror, still in his black pajama bottoms, examining his face and his days old stubble. He looked at her through the mirror.

"Why are you avoiding me?" she asked, trying to hide the resentment behind a fake pleasant tone.

Daniel kept looking at her, and then went back to his own reflection, passing a hand over his chin. Wilhelmina closed her eyes and took a deep breath, closing the door behind her. She took a few steps and stopped in the middle of the room. She wouldn't leave the room, if that's what it would take for him to talk to her.

He seemed oblivious to her however, all she could see was his back, his back muscles stretching every time he moved his head from side to side.

"Daniel," she tried to call him, to gain his attention.

He turned around but he wasn't answering to her call. He tried to brush past her, but she grabbed his bicep and forced him to turn around. So, unable to do otherwise, he looked down on her, infinitely shorter than him it seemed.

She shrugged. "Are you going to blame me for the rest of your life?" she asked. "Is this what it's going to be like? Because I've had enough self loathing not to need your despising too."

"I don't despise you," he said, low and monotone. "I can't look at you, because I see her."

"Then do it," she said, placing a hand firmly on his shoulder, bringing him closer. "Look at me and see her, whatever, but look at me. Sooner or later you'll have to see me, Daniel. Not your mother, me. But you have to fight this, because I'm not her."

"You're the thing that reminds me the most of her," he said, his voice shaking, but she couldn't identify with what feeling. "Every time I look at you, I am reminded of all the things I could have done to save her, all the things I should have said before she went. But instead, I was out there, playing our little game. You run, I chase. That's how it's always been, isn't it? And while you were busy running, and I was even busier trying to catch you, my magazine was revolting against me, and eventually it took something from me to punish me. All because I was running after you."

She asked herself whether it would have been better if he'd just kept on not talking to her, because what he was unloading on her was too much for the even the strongest back, and she felt her legs were starting to give out.

"But what hurts the most is that after I knew she was dead, I still couldn't be sad, because all I could think of, in that split second, was that I hadn't lost you. The split second after I' lost my mother, I was thinking about how the game could start again, I could keep chasing you. That moment, which should have been for my mother, I gave it to you. That's what I can't forgive you, and myself, for. That damned single moment."

Her hand fell of his shoulder, down her side, and she took a step back. "I didn't ask you to."

Daniel narrowed his eyes, tilting his head to the side.

"I never asked you to chase me," she continued. "I tried to tell you to back off, I tried to keep you away from me because I knew you would get hurt, and I would too eventually. But you never listen, you just kept coming back. You chased me because you wanted to."

"I chased you because you kept running," he said.

"I had to keep running because I was trying to escape from you!"

"If you had stopped running, if you had forgiven me, none of this would have happened!"

"If you hadn't cheated on me, I would have had nothing to forgive!" she snapped back at him, tempers rising on both parts.

Daniel tried to walk away, once again, but Wilhelmina stopped him again, only this time he didn't oblige, he shoved her away with a force he didn't even know he had. She lost her balance and hit her back against the closet; she had just little time to shield her face, but she hit her nose against one of the doors. She moaned in pain, and when she moved her hand from her face she saw the very small trail of blood on her fingers.

Daniel saw it too, and ran to her. "I'm sorry," he whispered, lifting her chin to examine the damage caused. "I'm… I'm sorry," he repeated over and over again. "It's just a small cut, it's… I'm sorry."

Wilhelmina took his hands from her face and wiped her upper lip with the sleeve of her robe. "I need to go conceal this, before Sawyer sees it and crucifies you." She walked away from him, and he watched her retreating back disappear behind the door. Even after that, she was still trying to save his ass.

_Just gonna stand there and watch me burn  
>Well that's all right because I like the way it hurts<br>Just gonna stand there and hear me cry  
>Well that's all right because I love the way you lie<br>I love the way you lie_

Wilhelmina entered the police department, followed closely by Marc. They both looked around, the weight of what they were about to do heavy on their shoulders. Alexis had been contacted, in order to retrieve Claire's personal objects now that the investigation was over, but the woman had asked Wilhelmina to do that instead.

She might have asked Daniel to do it, but they were not exactly in a good place. He still refused to be in the same room with her for more than strictly necessary, and she was very well aware he hadn't once looked into her eyes after the accident in the guestroom, only she had no idea whether it was for the reasons he had told her that afternoon, three days before, or if he was just ashamed he had laid hands on her.

She wasn't mad at him, she could not imagine the pain he was going through. She hurt too, but it had to be really insignificant when compared to his.

That's why she had put his good ahead of her own, and had volunteered to go grab Claire's stuff. In some way, she was doing all she could to erase the guilt that possessed her: the funeral, the speech, taking Daniel in, and now this. It was a sort of compensation for what she believed was due to the woman who had given her own life to save hers.

"Good evening, Officer," she heard Marc saying, and followed him to the reception desk. "We're here to collect the personal objects from the Meade investigation."

The officer, a bald, round man round forty, glanced onto a clipboard and nodded. "Be right back with your stuff," he said, and disappeared behind a door labeled _Archive_.

Marc leaned against the counter and drummed his fingers on the surface, sneaking a peek at Wilhelmina a few times. Wilhelmina noticed it and tilted her head to the side, inviting him to say what was going through his mind.

"Why are you doing all this?" he asked. "It's not yours to take care of anymore."

"It'll always be mine to take care of," Wilhelmina replied, glad for the interruption when the door opened and the officer they'd talked to came back, holding an orange package.

The man grabbed a cutter and tore the envelope opened, letting the items fall on the desk: a bag, that Wilhelmina recognized immediately with a sinking of her stomach, a cell phone and a file.

"This is all we were able to link to Mrs Meade," the man said, picking up the file. "This document was open on the computer we found on the scene. It's a letter, or something, while the computer has been returned to the office."

The man handed out the file, and Wilhelmina looked at his hand and the piece of paper, unable to physically reach out to take it. Marc noticed the woman's uneasiness and smiled courteously to the officer, taking the letter, the bag and the phone. "Thank you," he said, and with an arm around Wilhelmina's shoulders he escorted her outside. "Are you ok?" he said, whispering, once they were outside on the sidewalk.

"Yes," she answered, too quickly to be believable. "I'm just not sure I should be the first one to read that letter. Maybe I should just give it to Daniel."

Marc nodded, understandingly. "Look, this is what we're going to do," he said. "I'm gonna put everything in the bag, and you're gonna take it back to the apartment. Once you're there, you give it to Daniel, and if he doesn't wanna read it, and trust me, there's a high possibility he will not, that's when you read it."

Wilhelmina nodded, and Marc thrust everything into the purse and handed it to her. She grabbed it, and the sensation of leather under her skin burnt her lightly, because that might have been the last thing Claire had touched.

No, the last thing Claire had touched was her goddamned skin, when she'd tried to fucking save her, and she had died trying.

If there was anything cursed, in this situation; it was her own body.

_Now I know we said things, did things, that we didn't mean  
>And we fall back into the same patterns, same routine<br>But your temper's just as bad as mine is, you're the same as me  
>When it comes to love you're just as blinded<br>Baby please come back, it wasn't you, baby it was me  
>Maybe our relationship isn't as crazy as it seems<br>Maybe that's what happens when a tornado meets a volcano  
>All I know is I love you too much to walk away though<em>

She walked into the apartment, that afternoon, and expected Hudson to come hurrying towards her, but he didn't. It took her a little to remember Sawyer and Hudson were out for the whole day, off to some canine group playdate. She was glad, it would give her time to speak to Daniel about the letter, or maybe read it even, without being interrupted. It would be complicated, probably it would even get messy once they were done fighting and one had eventually killed the other just like everyone had always expected they would end up.

She dropped the key on the table and stepped over the threshold to the dining room, and stopped dead in her tracks when she saw the back of Daniel's head showing behind the headrest. He was slumped over the sofa, his feet on the coffee table. She swallowed and circled the sofa and grimaced.

He was in a terrible state. Three days had passed, he had not shaved, and judging by the smell he had not even had a good shower in days. He was still wearing the same black pajama bottoms, but this time he had a white sleeveless shirt, stained on the front with what looked like coffee.

He was asleep, his chin resting against his chest, and Wilhelmina shook her head when she saw the empty glass dangling from his hand, threatening to fall. She reached for it and took it him, movement that awoke him. Wilhelmina laid the glass on the table while Daniel rubbed his eyes and tried to focus on where he was. Once he took in Wilhelmina he rolled his head back against the couch and closed his eyes again.

"What," he asked, rudely.

"Are you drunk?" she asked, just as rudely.

"No," he said, with a snort. "Mom wouldn't approve, now, would she?" he murmured, opening his eyes to see the effect his words had on her.

"If you think I'm going to break down and cry, seeing you like this, you're wrong," Wilhelmina replied. "I just need to give you your mother's stuff, I just came back from the police department." She dropped the purse on the vacant seat on the sofa next to him. "There's a letter. I don't know what it's about, I didn't read it."

She turned to leave, but after she had taken just a couple steps, Daniel's voice called after her. She turned and waited for him to speak.

"I don't wanna be alone when I read it," he whispered, his attitude disappearing as quickly as it had come.

She let out a deep sigh and nodded once, walking back to the couch and seating next to him, picking up the purse. She opened it and took out the sheet which contained Claire's last words. As soon as she'd read the first sentence, she felt a pang in her heart. It was for them. It was so clearly intended for them, her mainly, it hurt immensely.

It wasn't until now, while they both read that last document, that they fully comprehended the impact their divorce had had on Claire. They'd always been so concerned with the impact it was having on their lives, and a couple times they had stopped to think about people like Betty, Marc, Amanda, but never once had they thought about how much Claire might have been harmed by their actions. They had always seen her as the rock that could take their cries of help, but never had once stopped to ask themselves about what she was feeling, watching their marriage crumbling just like hers had.

They read it through, slowly, taking in each word, and their meaning. How she had pleaded them to forgive each other, to put aside the rancor and let themselves give in to the love the she knew was still there.

Wilhelmina looked at Daniel, when she reached the end, and he was already looking away, having finished before her. She put the letter down, on the table, and turned her upper body facing him. She wished him to look at her, talk to her, cry even, let it all out because she was the only one in the world who could understand what he was feeling in that moment, but he didn't. He was looking ahead, into the empty glass she had taken from him, probably wishing it was full for him to drink and forget, numb the pain.

"You need a shower," she said, and it almost surprised her because she hadn't really controlled the words that came out of her mouths, they simply did. She took his hand and stood up. Daniel looked up and stood, following her.

_Come inside, pick up the bags off the sidewalk  
>Don't you hear sincerity in my voice when I talk?<br>Told you this is my fault, look me in the eyeball  
>Next time I'm pissed I'll aim my fist at the drywall<br>Next time, there won't be no next time, I apologize even though I know it's lies  
>I'm tired of the games I just want her back<br>I know I'm a liar, if she ever tries to fuckin' leave again  
>Imma tie her to the bed and set this house on fire<em>

She paced outside the bathroom door; Daniel had been inside for half an hour, and still she hadn't heard any noise of running water. She didn't want to invade his privacy, but his safety was more important, so she pushed the door open just enough to take a peek, and when she saw him standing in the same position in which she'd left him, she pushed it open further.

He turned to look at her, and opened his mouth to say something, maybe find an explanation, but Wilhelmina shook her head and stepped forwards, coming to stand before him.

"Here, let me help you," she said, knowing this was not a good idea. As a matter of fact, it was the worst idea, but it felt right. She reached for the hem of his shirt and lifted it up; Daniel raised his arms, letting her lift the shirt over his head and toss it on the ground. Then she reached for the waistband of his pants and slid them over his hips, down his legs and he stepped out of it. He remained in his boxers, and she swallowed, uncertain on the next move.

"You don't have to do this," he whispered.

Wilhelmina smiled. "It's ok," she said, hooking her fingers at the side of his underwear. "It's not like I've never seen what's down there." Her lame attempt at a joke fell useless, as Daniel kept staring into her eyes. She pushed the fabric down, trying to keep her eyes away, and let it fall down.

"Now, come on," she said, taking his hand. "Get in there."

She opened the sliding partition and turned on the water to the perfect temperature. She stepped aside and tried to keep her gaze as neutral as possible, reassuring even, as he stepped into the shower. She was about to slide the partition closed when she caught a glimpse of Daniel's eyes, and how confused he seemed.

She made up her mind in such a short time she wondered whether she had always known it would end up like that when she'd suggested he'd take a shower. She reached behind her and unzipped her dress, letting it slide down her legs and on the cold floor. Stepping out, she took off her stilettos and lost a good 5 inches doing that. She stepped into the shower, after Daniel, and slid the partition closed.

Daniel's eyes followed her. She was still in her underwear, the water hit their bodies but not their faces; she tried not to look into his eyes and she reached for the bath foam. She poured a generous amount in her left hand and put it back on the small shelf.

She took a step forward, closer to Daniel, not caring for her wet underwear, and started to rub her hands on his chest, lathering him up. Once she was done with his chest, she moved on to his shoulders and his arms, always careful to avoid Daniel's scrutinizing glare.

Then she circled him and took care of his back, letting her hand feel the muscles under her fingers, applying pressure to the spots where she felt he was tense. He hung his head down, letting the sensations wash over him, allowing himself to relax for the first time after Claire's death.

She circled him again and found herself at a loss of what to do. "I'm…You can do this yourself right? I mean, from now on?" She wanted desperately to sound confident, but she didn't. Her voice was so shaken, when she opened her mouth, she hardly recognized herself.

"I don't know," he said, looking down into her eyes, deeply, never blinking, not even for a second.

Wilhelmina swallowed, the proximity of her former husband disturbed her and aroused her at the same time. She wanted to chastise herself: what was she thinking? The man was mourning. How could she as much as have similar thoughts in the back of her mind? But her body was reacting, and there was nothing she could do.

That was the thing with Daniel, the thing that had first brought them together: the chemistry. It was uncontrollable, hard to handle. Out of their power.

She placed her hands on his chest and closed the distance in between their bodies, looking into his eyes, returning the intensity of his stare. He brought his hands to her hips and let them rest there for a while before they made their way upwards along her spine.

She smiled and moved on her tiptoes, leaning closer just as he dipped his head down and pressed his lips against hers. At first it was a mere contact, lips on lips, getting reacquainted with each other, realizing how much they'd missed it. He pulled at her, keeping her as close as possible, and she started to walk him backwards until his back was against the wall.

When their tongues got a taste of the other, it was like all those months had never passed, it was right back to the beginning. The first kiss, the first night, the first touch. She didn't want it to stop. It should, but she didn't want it to.

The way he responded to the kiss changed suddenly; it was as if something had snapped inside his head, and his movements became more eager. He grabbed her by the hips and, never leaving her mouth turned her, pushing her hard against the other wall. His movements ignited her; she had never felt more alive.

A thought crossed her mind, that maybe that was exactly why this was happening, that they both needed to feel something, anything, in order to reestablish that despite the death surrounding them, they were still alive. And this alone was enough of a reason not to stop this.

His mouth left hers only to shift his attention to her neck, letting his hand slid along the side, down to the curve of her shoulder where he bit on the soft, wet skin. She whimpered, and her hands grabbed a fistful of his hair, guiding him to her breasts.

He latched onto her nipple through the lacy fabric of her bra, and she arched her back off the cold tile, snapping her eyes shut; Daniel's hands immediately took advantage and reached behind her, unclasping and tossing the bra down at their feet. He grabbed her butt, so strong it might have almost seemed violent, and pressed himself into her, crashing his lips against hers again.

She cupped his face, and slid a foot up his calf, and Daniel immediately reached down, grabbing her thigh and holding it up higher over his hips, pushing her back against the wall, again. She felt his hardness pressed against her underwear, and just wished it gone already, because she couldn't stand it any longer.

She wanted him, she had always wanted him.

He let her leg fall back down, and didn't waste any moment, slipping his hand under her panties. He pulled back, breaking the kiss, and watched her as she gasped when his fingers touched her core. Her nails dug into the skin on his shoulder, her bottom lip in between her teeth, and her chest raising and falling with her heavy breathing.

But just like he'd snapped before, his behavior changed just as suddenly, and he retrieved his hand, letting it rest against her stomach. She looked confused and babbled something, but Daniel shut her up, pressing his lips against her briefly, and then resting his head against her shoulder.

"Go," he whispered.

Wilhelmina, who was still breathing hard, remained speechless, her lips parted in a bewildered incredulousness. "What?" she asked, breathlessly.

"You have to go," he repeated, taking a step back from her, his hands leaving her body.

She frowned and with a quick move she opened the partition and slipped out of the shower. Daniel turned just in time to see the partition between them, and sighed.

He would have wanted nothing more, but not now. It couldn't be that pathetic, it couldn't be that desperate. He didn't want it to be the result of their combined need for soothing and comfort.

It had to be something completely different, and right now, he couldn't allow himself to think about that.

It was not about them anymore.

It was about Claire.

_Just gonna stand there and watch me burn  
>Well that's all right because I like the way it hurts<br>Just gonna stand there and hear me cry  
>Well that's all right because I love the way you lie<br>I love the way you lie_


	28. Someday

**Someday**

It had been stupid, of course it had, she had known that from the offset, and he had been right to stop it. That didn't stop her feeling rejected and foolish, it didn't stop her wanting him as far away from her as possible. There could be an ocean between them and she was sure she would still be able to feel her humiliation burn. She wouldn't ask him to go though, he was still hurting and she couldn't force him into a place filled with painful memories just because she was embarrassed at her actions.

She had jumped into her own shower after Daniel had banished her from his, the water was scalding but she was cold inside. Her body shook under the torrent, but she didn't make a sound. Wilhelmina leaned forward and placed her hands on the cold marble, she let the water wash everything away; her shame, her pain and most of all her need to go back in that room and finish what they had started.

It wasn't until a sob ripped from her throat that she even realised she was crying; she cried for all the moments she had lost with Daniel, she cried for her betrayal of Sawyer, a man clearly devoted to her and she cried for Claire; for the loss, for the guilt and for her own stupid pride never letting her tell Claire how much she had grown to mean to her.

She cried for everything she had lost; her friend, her husband and somewhere along the way she had lost herself. Her head still dipped low, the force of her cries became more violent as the anger joined the sorrow. She was angry at everyone, everything, the world. Angry at herself for letting her marriage slip through her fingers, at Daniel for seeking comfort in another woman's arms, at Claire for walking back up those fucking stairs, Amanda for the months she stole from her and her husband, at Sawyer for being so good to her even when she didn't deserve his affection.

She deserved the pain.

Wilhelmina beat the flat of her hands against the marble, her jaw clenched as the wracking of her body became painful. She couldn't remember crying like this since she was a child, when the sobs came from your toes and your shoulders hunched as you tried to breathe, the air catching in your chest. She was finally giving into the instinct that she had felt every day since she had found Daniel with Amanda. She wasn't strong enough to resist it anymore.

She should have given into it sooner, maybe if she had, she would have felt cleansed; she wouldn't have let it grow into a twisted ball of resentment in the pit of her stomach. Maybe she could have let Daniel back in. If she hadn't seen breaking down as some sort of weakness then maybe she could have saved herself the mess she was now in. In fact, it was her supposed strength that was her greatest weakness.

The cold suddenly assaulted her and she felt two arms go around her waist and pull her from the shower. Her fingers instantly gripped at the fabric and twisted, clutching to it for dear life. The body holding her slid to the floor and Wilhelmina instinctively pulled her legs to her chest and tucked her head under their chin, her entire body still shuddering from the power of her weeping.

Daniel opened the robe bound around him and wrapped her inside it, holding her tight against him and let her fall apart. He brought one hand up to hold her head against his heart and rested his cheek upon her crown. "It's not your fault." He whispered the mantra repeatedly as he rocked her.

His words had been intended to bring her comfort, to let her know she wasn't blamed by him, to put an end to the horrifying sounds he had heard all the way from the guest room and brought him hurrying in here. They brought no such comfort, and only increased the grip she held on him as she twisted her face into his chest. In all their time together he had never seen her so open and vulnerable.

So broken.

On top of the insurmountable guilt he already felt he now added the burden that he had sent her recoiling into this state. He hadn't intended it, he didn't know his act would be the one to finally break the dam. He had told her to go, but he had kissed her; he kissed her before he sent her away so that she would know he wasn't asking her to go forever. He had wanted her, God, how he had wanted her; he just didn't want their coming together to be the result of the grief they were both lost in. He didn't want to equate their reconciliation with the death of his mother.

Daniel was biting down hard on his lip, trying to quell his own distress. She had been the strong one for him, she had tried to be his rock these past few days; even though she owed him nothing in his eyes. Now it was his turn.

The apartment was bathed in silence, the only sounds were the soft beat of the water, the hammering of her heart and the hiccoughing breaths as she slowly calmed herself. Daniel smoothed his hand over her hair, in time with her deep breathing. The quiet only magnified the small click of the apartment door closing.

"Willie..." He whispered.

She didn't move. "Willie..." He tried again, only slightly louder, shaking her lightly. "Willie...Sawyer." He tried to make her aware that any moment the other man would find her naked, curled in the foetal position, underneath his robe.

Still, she made no move and said nothing, she just shook her head slowly. Daniel pulled the robe tighter around her, ensuring she was covered, and lightly kissed the top of her head. If she didn't want him to let her go then he sure as hell wasn't going to. He closed his eyes and rested his forehead against her, waiting the inevitable confrontation. He was ready, just let Sawyer see what would happen if he tried to incite an argument while Wilhelmina was in this state.

"Daniel?"

His head shot up at the sound of the unexpected voice. Betty stood midways in Wilhelmina's bedroom, staring through the doorway framing the poignant picture. Her gaze flitted up to the shower, still running and billowing steam through the open partition and then back to the shattered couple on the floor. Wilhelmina's eyes were staring out the room towards her, but the woman was seeing nothing. For all she had seen a different, more human, side of Wilhelmina over the past years; nothing could quite prepare her for seeing her like that. The notoriously resilient woman was in pieces, she looked broken beyond repair and it scared Betty to see someone, usually so strong, so helpless.

It would stay with her forever.

Her eyes finally found Daniel's, red and bulging from the strain of trying not to shed his own tears, he shook his head at her, almost imperceptibly, a silent request that she never repeat what she saw. She swallowed, "I...I'm sorry, I let myself in...it was unlocked. You told me to come...I didn't think." Betty stammered her way through the sentence, ashamed at her intrusion on the painfully intimate moment.

"It's ok." He whispered, Wilhelmina didn't even react at the sound of his voice. Betty watched as the woman's fingers twisted tighter in the fabric wrapping her and Daniel together. "Go into my room..." He spoke clearly, rationally, giving her instructions. "Into my bathroom and get rid of the clothes in there...please don't ask questions. Just give me a few minutes."

Betty nodded and backed out the room, finding it hard to tear her eyes away from the empty stare of Wilhelmina's.

"Betty now...please." He asked her again, although he no longer looked at her; his forehead once again pressed against Wilhelmina.

Once he was sure she was gone, he braced one arm around Wilhelmina's waist and used his other to leverage them onto their feet. Willie complied but she was like a doll, standing there only because he had positioned her so, there was nothing voluntary in her movements.

He swiftly took off his robe and wrapped it around her, tucking her arms into the sleeves and tying it tightly. He pushed the hair from her face and tried to get her to look in his eyes but they wouldn't focus. He shivered as he stood there in only his boxers, the steam from the shower doing nothing to warm him. He gingerly moved his arms away from her and, once sure she was stable on her feet, turned and stopped the water flowing.

He was back in front of her in an instant and cupped her face in both hands, stooping slightly so they were eye to eye and brought his face close. "Willie." He tried softly. "Willie, look at me." He said with more force.

Her eyes flickered, but only for a second and not to look in his own. Instead her gaze landed on his lips and she screwed her face up and tilted her head, mesmerized by the sight before her.

"Willie...what?" His whisper took on a pleading edge.

Wilhelmina continued to stare, right at the corner of his mouth, right were Sawyer had punched him. It should have healed completely by now, but right there, in the very corner, visible only because of her intense scrutiny; was a tiny white line where the lip had been burst beyond repair.

Without a word, she slowly brought her hand up and reached it toward his face, Daniel's eyes flicked down as she extended her index finger slightly and traced the almost invisible imperfection. She continued to stare at it for several seconds, lost in her trance. Slowly, she turned the hand that had been stroking his face until her palm was facing her. She studied the patch of skin in the centre, no bigger than a quarter, now criss-crossed thanks to the layers of skin which had melted under the metal rail in the fire.

After what felt like an age, she finally met his eyes; when he saw the emptiness in them though, he wished she hadn't. She opened her mouth to speak and the timbre of her voice chilled him.

"We're scarred by our own madness."

_How the hell did we wind up like this?  
>Why weren't we able, to see the signs that we missed<br>And try turn the tables_

Julia had been observing her sister for hours, she kept making excuses to go into the small study. Fey never once wavered her gaze from the fireplace, although no flames burned there; all that remained were ashes, just like her life.

She was standing in the doorway, drumming her fingers on the frame, and could still see the back of her sister's immobile head peeking over the top of the winged chair. A couple of times she thought she saw Fey move to get her attention, but she was merely raising her hand to rub the bruises around her throat. Julia didn't ask how she had got them, but it wasn't hard to guess. Those abrasions could have been caused by Daniel, Wilhelmina, Amanda, or anyone she happened to piss off on her way between the apartments.

The media had been alight with the news of the source of the fire; and also that several people, Claire herself included, were aware of the fault in the building. Although it would obviously do nothing to ease the pain of the family, they were lucky it was a Meade who had perished, if it had been anyone else then the co-owners would work the rest of their lives to pay someone else, after a very expensive law suit.

The doorbell rang, long and loud, Julia remained staring at her sister's impassiveness. "Aren't you going to get that seen as you let your housekeeper go to save more money for Twinkies?" Fey drawled, without looking at her; the first words Julia had heard her say since her return.

As she waddled down the hallway, she supposed she should feel ashamed that she had believed her sister was a murderer; but in truth she was perhaps more shocked that she _wasn't_. She grabbed her purse from the stand near the door, she was only tipping the guy if he remembered her fucking hot wings this time.

"I hope for your sake you-Amanda!"

She immediately tried to close the door, in shock, but a slim arm stopped it and pushed gently. As the door opened under the pressure, Julia tried to hide her face, Amanda peered at it curiously through the glass.

"Do I...do I know you?"

"No, no I'm sorry, you must have the wrong house."

Her hand shoved the door harder and she stepped inside, without invitation. "Okay, I'm not THAT blonde, you just said my name."

She turned around in the hallway, her hands on her hips, feeling braver and back to her old self for the first time in a long time; because in this house, in this situation, she wasn't the villain. Her eyes narrowed, examining the robust woman carefully. "The restaurant..." The older woman bristled at her words. "You're her...sister?" She guessed.

Seeing no need for pretence, Julia nodded once curtly; Amanda laughed. "So that makes you my aunt...you knew where I was all these years. I'm guessing you're one of the many that Fey asked to watch me. I had family alive and well and you kept yourself hidden from me."

"_Fey_ kept me hidden." Julia clarified.

"And just where is Mommy dearest?" Amanda looked around the vast hall.

"I'm not sure she's quite up to accepting visitors."

"And I wasn't quite sure I was ready to have a ghost appear on my door...didn't stop her. So where is she?"

Julia pulled herself up to her full height, which wasn't very high. Looking at the girl, she could see so much of her sister; the way she held herself, the knitting of her brows as she appraised her, they way she lightly chewed on the corner of her lip indicating she was nervous even though her stance gave no such impression. She lifted her hand and pointed to the door at the right hand side at the end of the hallway.

Amanda walked purposefully to the ajar door and looked through the gap, just has Julia had done several times; again, all that could be seen was the back of her head. She didn't turn to face her daughter, although Amanda knew she was aware she was there.

"Okay, stop with the Miss Havisham bit."

A throaty chuckle came from the person in the chair. "Miss Havisham? I don't think so; after all...she lived with her daughter."

"You made the decision to live without me...not me." Amanda spoke quietly.

"How did you find me?" She skilfully avoided the topic.

"Please...Marc's been digging up info on everyone from Osama to Obama, for Wilhelmina, for years; you were a piece of cake."

"Why are you here Amanda?" She asked as she rose slowly from the chair.

"To-oh my God!" She exclaimed when Fey turned around. "How did that...who did that to you?" She eyed the livid purple bruises decorating her neck.

Fey thought for a second about lying, or telling her nothing at all, but what was the point? Hadn't they kept too many secrets and played too many games?

"Daniel." She told her simply.

"Daniel! Daniel _Meade?_"

Fey rolled her eyes. "No Amanda, Daniel Day Lewis, he took offence to a fur I was wearing! Of course Meade!"

"B-but, why...he thought you started the fire didn't he?"

Fey laughed, the motion hurting her near crushed windpipe. "They both did...didn't you?"

Amanda wasn't ashamed to admit that she did, and nodded. Fey threw her hands up in the air and looked to the heavens. "Wonderful, my own flesh and blood thought I coul-"

"Don't! Don't you dare pull the wounded act on me. Don't try and make me feel guilty for thinking the same as everyone else. I may be your daughter but it's through blood alone, I don't KNOW you. How could I possibly be expected to think 'oh no she could never do that...not my Mom' when you've never been one to me? Don't try and act indignant Fey, I know nothing about you...not the real you anyway."

"What do you mean the real me? I am who I am."

Amanda laughed, hollowly. "Oh don't give me that. The Fey I knew, the one that presented herself to the world. Would not be sitting in here staring into a dusty old fire, wondering what had become of her life. Fey Sommers would never care if someone thought she was capable of such a heinous act. She...she would never have risked her own notoriety for coming to help the daughter she abandoned. There are a lot of layers to you, and I want to know them all."

Fey looked up at her and felt a strange sensation in her chest. It took her a while to recognise it for what it was. Hope. She hadn't felt that for too long a time, not since the days she truly believed that Bradford's love for her would eclipse that for his wife. The day she realised it wouldn't had been the day hope had died for her, the day she decided to disappear.

"What do you mean?" She asked, her even voice not betraying even the slightest hint of emotion.

"I mean...I wasn't clinging to Daniel and the hope of a baby because I loved him. I was clinging to the idea of a family, of belonging. I felt such a wedge between me and my parents...I love them, but there was still something missing. I tried to fill that space with Daniel and you were right, it didn't work. It was a fool's dream and if I'm honest it was never what I wanted."

"What _do_ you want?"

Her breath trembled when she exhaled and her eyes stung slightly. "I want what I wanted since I found that picture in your safe...I want to get to know you. I...I want my mother. Now I can see what Daniel is going through, losing his Mom, I realised I can't let this chance pass me by. If you'll let me, I want to build something with you...mom."

Fey felt the hope inside her be crushed by the familiar weight of fear pressing down on her. She had given her child up for a reason; she knew she would mess it up, she knew she would ultimately end up hurting her. Could she let her in now? Could she possibly be sure that she wouldn't screw this up, even though so many years had passed? By keeping her at a distance all these years, she was able to play the martyr, if she forged some kind of relationship now and it turned sour in any way she would be out of excuses; she would have to acknowledge herself as a failure.

"I...don't think that's a good idea Amanda. I mean you've come this far without me. You've let go of Daniel far easier than I did with Bradford. That's all I came here for. Let's not try and force each other into something that will benefit neither."

Amanda set her lips together firmly and nodded, trying to conceal her disappointment and hurt. It was what she had expected, Fey Sommers was not the mothering type. She conjured Marc's earlier words to the forefront of her mind. He was right; it was Fey who was losing out, not her. She would go on as she always had, but she couldn't deny the rejection stung just a little bit more than she thought it would.

"I guess...I guess I'll see you around then." The statement was feeble. Fey would not be seen unless she wanted to be seen and now that Daniel had made it clear that she would never be welcome in the halls of the Meade building ever again, she knew the woman was likely to make herself disappear.

"Amanda?" Fey called out to her daughter, making her turn, teary eyed from her position at the door.

"Lunch...tomorrow...we can try."

Amanda smiled. "I guess that's a start."

_I wish you'd unclench your fists, and unpack your suitcase  
>Lately there's been too much of this<br>But don't think it's too late_

"Hey, thanks for coming." Betty ushered Marc inside the apartment.

"Of course, as soon as I could...she that bad? She seemed ok, not great but ok, when I saw her earlier." He took his jacket off and folded it over his arms.

"She's that bad Marc."

Marc strolled into the kitchen. "Are you sure, I saw this woman after they told her nautical was in yet again, if that didn't break her noth-"

"Please don't joke Marc." Betty asked him quietly, shaking her head. "Trust me, she's in a bad way."

"I'm sorry...it's my go to when things get too real for me...especially with her. I can't handle it when she breaks down, if she breaks...what hope do the rest of us mere mortals have?" He smiled, lamely.

"She'll be fine, Daniel's with her now."

"What happened? Did he...did they..?"

Betty simply shrugged, she had no idea what had brought them to the state she had seen them in, but she had a strong feeling the crumpled dress on the floor and the sodden bra she had removed from the confines of Daniel's shower at his behest, had something to do with it. Daniel had asked her not to ask questions and she wouldn't, at least not while Marc was around to throw in his two cents.

They stepped out into the hall again as they heard footsteps padding towards them. Daniel was still only in his boxers and at this precise moment didn't care at all that Marc and Betty were witness to it. "What are you doing here?" He asked Marc.

"Where is she?"

"She's sleeping, why are you here?" He asked again.

"Betty called me."

Daniel shot a look at Betty who immediately began to explain herself for her actions, when she knew that Daniel wanted to keep the current state of his ex-wife quiet. "It's only Marc, he knows her better than anyone...almost anyone." She corrected herself as Daniel's eyes hardened slightly. "And I didn't think you'd want her to be alone."

"You can't honestly think I'm going anywhere now." Daniel chuckled humourlessly, the sound felt strange coming from him and realised it was the first laughter which had came from him in days; contrived or not.

"Daniel it needs to be done...you said so yourself. It's better we do it now, when Alexis is still here and before the...you know...tomorrow."

"The what Betty? Go on, say it." He prompted her. "The will reading? In less than six months I've been divorced and buried my mother, I think a will reading will be a walk in the park, compared to that, don't you?" He was angry at her for calling Marc behind his back. For once he really didn't care that his long time friend had only been trying to help. She shouldn't even have seen it; they could all pretend they were part of the one little make believe family all they wanted, but some things were private, some things were meant for only them.

"You're going out?" Marc asked, not with any resentment, he tried to make his tone casual to break the atmosphere in the room. If relations were off between Betty and Daniel he knew something must be very wrong.

"No." Daniel answered, at the same time Betty said yes.

Marc stepped forward. "Daniel." He started softly, pushing any residual hatred aside for the greater good, not wanting to create any more tension. "This needs done...you know it does. I'll stay with her, I promise. You two...Daniel you're dragging each other down, you need space...both of you."

Daniel finally tore his angry gaze away from Betty and looked at Marc, for the first time in a very long time, he could see concern in the man's kind eyes; concern for _him_. It was this, more than anything, that pulled him back from the brink. He nodded and branched away to the side, opening the door to the guest room.

An awkward silence filled the hallway, but not for long. It seemed as if Daniel had simply thrown on his clothes, seconds later he was back in the hall. He whipped past them and was out the front door, jacket in hand. Marc and Betty only had time for a hurried glance at each other before Betty fled after him.

_Nothing's wrong, just as long as you know  
>That someday I will. Someday, somehow<br>I'm gonna make it all right but not right now  
>I know you're wondering when<em>

Marc stood on the spot for a long moment, struck by how empty the place seemed. In the past few years this house had been alive with energy. Daniel and Wilhelmina setting up home here had been a bemusing experience for them all; their happiness had seemed to flow through them all as if, by extension, they had all evolved along with the relationship. It was as if each of them felt whatever those two felt, they shared their blissful highs and their soul crushing lows.

He walked along the hall and was plagued by memories, these walls had seen more drama unfold between them than perhaps even Mode had. If he had known, four and a half years ago, that the road they were on would lead them here; would he change it? No, because she had been happy, and above all things that was what he'd always wished for her. He had known all along that her fulfilment did not lie with her career, she talked a good game, but he knew her desires where much simpler than that. They were the same as everyone else's, she wanted a home, a lover, someone who could fill that void her practically loveless upbringing had opened in her.

And Sawyer just didn't cut it.

He pushed the door open, just a crack, to make sure she was sleeping soundly. He opened it fully when he saw she was sitting upright in the bed, her legs crossed over the covers and a pillow on her lap.

"They sent you to babysit the nut-job?" She asked sardonically, her mouth twitching in a smirk.

"Daniel told me you were asleep." He came inside and closed the door behind him.

"Please, I was with the man for four years, I perfected my fake-sleeping after six months to get some peace and quiet." She smiled, her gaze held by the object she had scattered before her on the bed.

"Whatcha lookin' at?" Marc came closer and sat on the edge of the bed and his expression fell sadly when he looked down.

"My life...or what was my life."

He didn't know when she had done it but she had retrieved the pictures from the closet and now had an array in front of her. Most were of her and Daniel, a couple featured Claire, Alexis and DJ; when DJ was much younger, the photo obviously belonging to Daniel in the period Marc liked to think of as PW: Pre Wilhelmina.

"It's all gone." She no longer sounded sad, but resigned.

"You still have this one." He leaned over and pointed to a photograph taken on the red carpet. A smiling Daniel and Wilhelmina in the fore front, but Marc was pointing to the curly-haired image of himself in the background.

"I do." She agreed, and turned to meet his eye. Wilhelmina brought her hand up to his face, holding it, making sure he knew the sincerity of her words. "And I want you to know that not a day goes by where I'm not grateful for you...even when I don't say it...even when I don't show it."

"Oh God, is this one of those things where someone died so you start confronting your own mortality and telling everyone you love them in case you get hit by a bus?"

She laughed at him, more thankful for him in this moment than she had ever been, for not pussyfooting around her.

"And it's not just me." He picked up the vein of the conversation again. "You have Sawyer now."

Wilhelmina nodded slowly and looked down upon the photos again, she opened her arms. "And where is he? Huh? Where have I made room for him in all of this? Look there's me...Daniel." She started picking the pictures up as she spoke and stacked them in front of Marc. "Claire, Alexis, DJ, you...god even Amanda and Betty are in the background of this one, and look..." She grabbed her cell from the dresser. "I have become one of those women who have a picture of their DOG on their phone...my DOG Marc. Where's Sawyer? The only thing connecting him to this apartment is a blue toothbrush next to mine, and I can't even handle that because Daniel had a blue toothbrush next to mine. I won't even let him put his stuff in the bedside table on Daniel's side. I haven't given him an inch and he still keeps coming back for more."

"Because he lo-"

"Don't!" She pressed her fingers against his mouth. "Don't say that Marc." He nodded under her hand.

He didn't push the point, instead he asked the question that was burning in his about how she came to be in that state. "Did you...Willie did you...did you two..."

"Are you having a stroke? Say what you're going to say?"

"Did you have sex with Daniel?" He blurted out, looking her right in the eyes.

She averted her eyes and looked back at the bedclothes. "Several times, four years is a long time." She answered flippantly.

"Willie you know what I mean."

She sighed. "We had a...moment." She wasn't sure if that was quite the right word to use for angst ridden foreplay in the shower with your ex, but it was the only one Marc was getting.

"So you didn't slip...again...like the-"

"Bathroom? No."

Marc perked up on the bed. "Bathroom, what happened in the bathroom? I was talking about the retreat."

"You know about the retreat?" She exclaimed.

"You know for a woman supposedly heartbroken you sure get a lot of tail."

She smacked his arm, revelling in the lightness in the atmosphere, he was like a breath of fresh air. Marc just smiled at her. "Well good, I was worried that's what might have caused your little..." he gestured her emphatically.

"Meltdown?" She filled in the blank for him. "No, I think when the brick came out the whole wall just tumbled right down behind it."

"Well you've kept a lot in. Amanda, the divorce, Claire."

Wilhelmina was shaking her head. "It's not just that. I think when I let myself cry for that I let myself cry for everything I ever stopped myself from crying at before. Every argument Daniel and I ever had, every time I walked away and played the sub zero bitch even when I felt like dying...I think it all came out."

"Well no wonder you went all basket case."

"I thought you were here to console me?" She arched her brow at him and his heart actually lifted at the familiar gesture. It was like he could see her starting to emerge again. "You don't need to play warden though, I assure you I'm fine."

"It's no problem."

"Okay, now you're forcing me to word it less pleasantly. Get out and just let me be by myself for a while. I need to recharge for going back to Mode, we've already lost one issue and as tragic as everything is right now, we can't afford to lose another one."

"Actually, that's where you're wrong."

"Oh? Suddenly you know more about Meades financial state than Daniel and I do?" She quizzed him, still half amused.

"No, I mean...and don't get mad." He held his hands out in front of him, palms upward in a surrendering move. "I mean, we haven't lost an issue."

Wilhelmina frowned at him, confused as he pulled his satchel onto his lap. "But the fire?"

"Destroyed some content, yes, but not all, and a lot of it was backed up on the computers. I took some of our staff down to some empty offices in Cucina and we did what we could..."

"You put together a whole issue?" She whispered, awestruck.

Marc nodded. Wilhelmina surveyed him, even though she held him in the highest regard, talent wise, it was clear she had still underestimated him. This was truly above and beyond the call of duty. She was duly impressed and did not want to rain on his parade, but the next issue on the stands had to be special.

"Marc, the next issue...it was going to be dedicated to Claire."

"I know."

"And it has to be something more than the ridiculously dreary blank slate Daniel dedicated to Bradford."

"I know."

"And not just some little editor's note in the corner."

"WILLIE!" He stopped her. "_I know_...will you sign off on this please?"

He slipped the mock up of the magazine out of the bag and Wilhelmina's breath caught in a gasp. There, on the Mode cover, was a picture of Claire, and not just any picture. The title at the top of the magazine may have read 'MODE' but emblazoned down the bottom, in deep red writing;

'Hot Flash'

It was the cover to Claire's very first edition of her magazine, her dream, the dream Wilhelmina had helped destroy. Claire had wanted nothing more than to see her publication hit the stand; and Marc was giving it to her.

"It's not too much is it? It's not too in your face?"

Wilhelmina laughed and nodded exaggeratedly. "Oh no it is, it is definitely too much and it's certainly in your face."

Marc face fell and he looked down. Wilhelmina's hand cupped his chin and forced his eyes back up to look at hers. She was smiling. "But so was Claire." She whispered at him.

His face lit up as he smiled. "Really?"

Wilhelmina was in wonder of him, when did he have time to do this? He had brought together a full issue, helping Mode and Meade immensely and paid tribute to Claire in a way she would never have thought of. "It's perfect, can we still get it to print in time."

"I was on my way there when I got called."

"Then go, phone a town car under my name and high tail your couture clad heiny over there stat. Give Claire her moment."

"And you'll be-"

"I'll be fine! GO!" She pointed to the door.

Smiling, he squeezed her hand tightly and left.

She smiled until she heard the outer door closing and let her face fall from the mask she wore, back to the unfeeling mass of muscle and skin it really was. With a flick of her foot, she kicked the photos off the bed and heard a crack as one hit the floor. Leaning over, she picked it up. The picture Marc had pointed to earlier now bore a crack right between her and Daniel.

She shoved the photos under the bed and out of sight and rolled into the centre of the bed. Her muscles hurt from forcing herself to smile at Marc. She could appreciate what he had done, and knew he had done it well. But when she had looked at it, when she listened to all the things he said to her, she still felt numb; not that he had picked up on it.

If she could fool Marc, into thinking she was okay, she could fool anyone.

_Almost_ anyone.

_Well I'd hope that since we're here anyway  
>That we could end up saying<br>Things we've always needed to say  
>So we could end up staying<em>

Daniel had not said a word to Betty on the ride over, he had tried to shut the car door before she could get in, but she had caught it and squeezed in before Daniel could protest. He still didn't speak to her when they pulled up at the imposing manor house, nor when a weary looking DJ had met them in the hallway. He had greeted DJ, and latterly Alexis when he found her in the study, but still remained cold and silent to Betty.

She was confused, and a little hurt, surely he couldn't be that mad at her? It wasn't like she had called a press conference to discuss Wilhelmina's mental state, she hadn't even told Marc the full extent, just that Wilhelmina needed him. She knew her overbearing need to try and help could be trying at times, but she thought that Daniel knew her well enough to know she would only ever have his best interests at heart.

Alexis had told him she and DJ would be clearing out the study and the den, she asked that he do their mothers bedroom. He had just nodded and headed straight up the stairs, without any acknowledgement to Betty; who loyally followed him.

Once in the room, Daniel immediately began opening drawers and throwing items into the boxes Alexis had left on the bed, without looking at anything he was packing away.

"Daniel." Betty stood by the door, feeling awkward.

He didn't answer, but pulled out the entire top drawer of Claire's dresser and turned it upside down, dumping the contents in the box. He couldn't have made it plainer that he had no desire to talk to her, but she still kept trying.

"Daniel, I'm happy to help you, but why does this have to be done now? I mean, shouldn't this sort of thing be left 'til after the reading of the will?"

"It needs done now, because my mother has always made it clear what she wants done with her personal possessions." He answered her robotically, as if he were answering a reporter, not a friend. "All her clothes, the majority of her jewellery, it's all to be sold at auction and the proceeds split evenly between the charities she was a patron of. That good enough for you?" He carried on with his task, now moving to the large walk-in closet and pulling dresses from the racks, letting them fall haphazardly into the box at his feet.

"Daniel...I think Alexis left these garment bags for the dresses."

He looked onto the bed and saw the neatly stacked pile of garment bags upon it. Bending down, he picked up the dresses he had already discarded and launched them onto the bed. "Well good for Alexis, she thinks of everything doesn't she? Daniel Meade, ex-fashion editor, can't even pack a fucking dress properly." He slapped the closet door with the palm of his hand. He stopped and smirked. "Ex-fashion editor." He snickered, "I seem to be a lot of ex things these days; ex-editor, ex-husband, ex-son."

"Hey." Betty stepped forward, into his personal space. "You're no-one's ex-son. You never stop being your parent's children, even when their gone. It's been almost twelve years...but I'm still very much my mother's daughter."

"Well, no offense Betty, but you always did have the habit of viewing the world through rose tinted glasses." He sneered at her.

"Daniel, why are you so mad at me?" She asked in the squeaky tone her voice always adopted when she was exasperated.

"You knew damn fine I didn't want anyone to know about what happened back there!"

"It was Marc! Marc, Daniel, MARC! She needed someone and you're so obviously not equipped to deal with it right now."

"I am perfectly capable of looking after my own wife!"

"EX-WIFE!" She yelled at him, regretting it immediately when she saw the flash of pain cross his features. She adopted a softer tone, "Daniel, you're regressing, you need to let go all over again."

"Again? Betty I never let go in the first place."

"Well you need to start, you two are killing each other. I know you know calling Marc was the right thing to do, so come on, what's this really about?" She sat on the edge of the bed.

He seemed to deflate before her eyes. "I can't...I can't be mad at me anymore." He whispered, ashamed.

"What do you mean?"

He sighed and walked to the bed, perching beside her. "I was mad at me, I blamed myself and I nearly sent myself mad with the guilt. I turned it on Willie and look what I did to her. I still have so much rage Betty...and I have nowhere to direct it. I misplaced it and I'm sorry."

Betty squeezed his bicep. "Look I'm not going to give you all the customary platitudes like 'It'll get better in time.' But I think maybe you need to speak to someone about this."

"I need _her_ Betty."

She smiled sadly, aware that Wilhelmina was the one thing he couldn't have. Or was she? "Daniel...the clothes, in your shower, did you and she...you know?"

"Almost." He admitted quietly. "I stopped it."

"It was the smart thing to do."

"Yeah, real smart, look what I sent her spiralling into."

She knew in this mood there was no getting through to him, she changed the subject. "What do you think will happen to the house?"

Daniel shrugged. "Traditionally it passes to the eldest Meade son...I don't know which one of us that is, technically speaking." He chuckled, it felt good. "I guess either way, I'll stay here for a while...but I think we'll sell it."

"Sell it? Hasn't it been in the family for generations?"

"It's just bricks and mortar Betty...it means nothing anymore. The Meade dynasty fell a long time ago, it holds no affection for either of us, it never did for my mother either. This place has seen more bad times than good."

"But I thought you didn't want to stay here because it was full of memories?"

Daniel sighed heavily and looked around the room. "I think it was the absence of them that made it so hard. Growing up, Alex and I were constantly on the move; at school, abroad or whatever. In our teens we spent as little time here as possible and as soon as we left college we took a one way ticket outta here. I hate this place Betty."

"But you're gonna stay here?"

He nodded, "I'll go back to the apartment for tonight, make sure she's ok, but after the reading, once Alexis and DJ leave...as much as this place holds no affection for me...it was hers, you know? And I know it may be a ghost house now, I might be haunted by the steps I should have taken that would have kept her alive, but Betty...if I stay at that apartment I'll be the one haunting Wilhelmina. I want her...but I won't hurt her again."

_Now the story's played out like this  
>Just like a paperback novel<br>Let's rewrite an ending that fits  
>Instead of a Hollywood horror<em>

She hadn't slept or attempted to re-charge as she told Marc she would. Wilhelmina sat at her kitchen table, leaning back in the chair with her legs crossed; her hands cupped around an untouched cup of coffee which had long gone cold.

Since Marc had left, she had been trying to force herself to feel something, anything. She made herself conjure the most painful recollections. She thought of the moment she had learned of her daughter's betrayal; nothing.

Her 'son' being taken from her, who she had allowed herself to finally bond with, if only for Daniel's benefit; he would have been the only child he would ever have with her; still nothing.

The image that was burned to her mind, but she fought so hard to block, was swimming before her. Amanda writhing in her husband's arms, his hands on her skin and his face contorted in pleasure as he drove into another woman. The very thought that used to make her want to crumble now left her feeling numb.

She thought of Claire, alone in the cold ground, of the fear she must have felt when she walked back in that building and realised in a solitary moment that she wouldn't see daylight again.

Numb.

Even the happier aspects of her life, the ones that used to fill her with warmth did nothing to lift the chill inside her. The thought of Sawyer's face lighting up when he saw her did nothing, the constant presence and kindness she had received from Marc did not make so much of a dent in the bleakness. Even the energy that the little tyrant that was Hudson, had brought to the house and helped breathe new life into her, left her nothing but dead inside.

The last time she could remember feeling anything was when she had been tangled in Daniel's embrace under the shower, that was the one and only time she had anything akin to a human emotion coursing through her. She had been too lost to recall the hurt and anguish she had felt after he had rejected her; so she clung to how he had made her feel when he took her in his arms and they attempted to take each other's pain away.

Now, nothing; she felt that a person could walk into this room right now and tell her everyone she cared for was dead and she would simply nod and offer them coffee. She had no fight left in her, no fire burning in her stomach and she could see no way to re-ignite it.

A high pitched barking filled her ears and the unmistakable sound of the door closing followed. Moments later, Hudson scampered into the kitchen and began jumping at her feet, clamouring for attention. Absent-mindedly, she scratched the dog on top of his head; satisfied, Hudson hurried off to his food.

Hudson was quickly followed by Sawyer, who stayed in the doorway watching her. "How are you feeling?"

"Fine." She lied, Sawyer knew nothing of her little episode and she planned on keeping it that way. "How was your day?" Her question was inquiring enough but her tone was anything but.

"Good, although your little werewolf there forgets he's still a pup and I spent half the day rescuing him from bigger dogs...but good yeah."

She nodded, his words already forgotten. Looking up at him, she held his stare in her own and willed something deep inside her to feel something for him. Anything; love, affection, annoyance...nothing would come. She stood up abruptly, still keeping their eyes locked, and slowly closed the distance.

She may not feel anything _for_ him in this moment, but he could help her feel something alive in her. He straightened up as she reached him, instantly understanding her intentions and before she could even lift her hands to touch him, he sank a hand in her hair and pulled him close to her.

Their lips met furiously, Sawyer feeling the need acutely, it had been too long since she had let him touch her. Wilhelmina pressed her body tight against his, finally feeling a slow burn building somewhere within. Her hand cupped his neck as he continued to kiss her with a fierceness which surprised her.

She backed him out into the hall and pulled his open shirt off, letting her fingers rest on the muscles underneath the vest he still wore. Sawyer used his whole hand to hold the back of her head, tangled in her hair, still wavy from her shower, and moved his mouth to the curve of her neck, she hummed low in her throat when she felt the roughness of his stubble brush against the soft skin.

Willie wove her own hand into his hair, keeping him in place as he sucked on the hollow of her throat and closed her eyes tight, concentrating on nothing but the feeling his touch awoke in her.

When Sawyer abandoned the trail he was making on her neck and clashed his lips to hers again, she brought her hands down to the waste of his pants, her fingers easily unbuckled the belt and with one hand she pulled it free of the loops and threw it off to the side.

"You do realise that's now puppy fodder?" He breathed in her ear, biting the lobe.

"Shut up." Wilhelmina turned her head to find his mouth, she didn't want to break the contact in any way, trying to keep the heat inside her for as long as possible.

She tugged the vest out of the waistband of his jeans and her thumb found the button, just as she was about to open it, Sawyers hands flew to hers and stopped her.

"Wait...stop..." He said, with real effort, clear the last thing he wanted to do was stop her. "Not here..." He looked at the door, his chest heaving with the deep breaths he took in his excitement. "Daniel." He explained, he wanted the man to get the point that he was the number one in Wilhelmina's life now, but he still wasn't cruel enough to risk him walking in on them for the umpteenth time.

"Fine," She growled, pulling him tight against her, with the fingers still tucked in the waistband. "But do me one thing?" Sawyer quirked his brows at her. "Don't say that name again." She warned, before circling his neck and once again attacking his mouth with her own.

Sawyer groaned into the deep kiss and even louder when he felt her push herself against him. Walking with her still entwined with him, he pushed her towards the bedroom; she was half walking backwards, half being lifted by him as he tried to reach their destination as quick as possible.

As soon as they were safely ensconced in the room, Sawyer kicked the door shut and found himself being pushed up against it roughly. Her hands went back to the fastenings on his jeans and this time he was only too eager for her to continue. Opening them, she stuck her thumbs at his side, hooking both the pants and his boxers and pushed them over his hips.

Sawyer's head fell back sharply and hit the wood of the door as she wrapped her hand around him, her tight grip running up and down his length. Her touch on him was like fire and he had no desire for it to stop, but if he didn't stop it then there was no way they would see the, as she would call it, finish line together.

Again, he brought his hand to hers to stop her movements. As he stilled her, he turned them so she was the one against the door. Hastily pushing the garments the remainder of the way down his legs, he kicked them aside and pulled the white vest over his head to join them on the floor. Sawyer watched as Wilhelmina's eyes trailed his body hungrily. He put a finger under her chin, needing to see the same look when she looked in his eyes.

When their eyes met, he had no chance to see any reaction as she pulled him against her and sought out his lips again. Too lost in his arousal to read into the fact that she wouldn't look him in the eye, he pulled on the tie of her robe and slipped it down her arms. His eyes dipped downward and swept her body appreciatively, noting the lack of underwear concealing her from him further. "Waiting for me huh?" He said huskily.

The tone in his voice made something in her stomach flip, the obvious need he felt for her reverberated through her body and she reached for him again. She felt his hardness press against her thigh for only the briefest second before he bent slightly and latched his mouth to her breast. She let her head roll backwards and braced herself on his shoulders as he sucked and nipped at his target.

His other hand rested still on her hip, she needed more from him; needed to feel so much more. She grabbed the hand on her hip and applied pressure. Sawyer, instantly getting her intention, slipped his hand down and she audibly gasped when she felt his fingers go inside her.

Sawyer took direction well, but there was the difference right there; not once, in all their times together had she had to tell Daniel where or how to touch her. He seemed to always instinctively know what her body needed. Where she needed to be loved softly or fucked hard.

She shut her eyes tight and hit the back of her head against the door, trying to shift his name from her head. Sawyer, misinterpreting her movement as a reaction to his ministrations, increased his efforts and pressed his thumb against her. This time, when her eyes rolled back, it really was for him.

She felt the loss of contact on her chest as Sawyer dipped lower to press his lips to the flat stretch of her stomach, teasing her with the smallest flick of his tongue or graze of his teeth. His hand crept down her side and onto her thigh, descending lower until it hooked behind her knee. Lifting slowly, he brought it up until the back of her thigh rested on his shoulder and she shook when she felt his mouth on her.

There was nothing for her to grab onto as she was backed against the door. Her hand shot out and braced herself as well as she could on the handle of the door while the other one twisted in his hair. The force of her grip must be hurting him, but it only seemed to spur him on as his tongue worked faster against her.

This was what she wanted, she thought, as the pressure built in the pit of her stomach. This was the feeling she had craved. Her back left the door and she released a sudden cry when she felt his lips clamp down at the same moment he brought two fingers back into her. He didn't stop his assault when he heard the strangled sound, but continued to torture her with his lips, slowing down, bringing her through her orgasm.

When he felt her body start to tremble against him, once the more violent tremors had passed, he stood, still holding her leg and held it high above his hip as he pushed himself into her. Her hands slid over his back, feeling the muscles move as he drove into her. Sawyer's head was buried at her neck, lightly biting her, tasting the salt of her sweat.

He pulled back and his movements slowed, he tried to catch her eye again, wanting her with him. She looked in his eyes and shook her head, taking laboured breaths. This wasn't what she wanted to feel, not him loving her. She wanted, _needed_, the fire, the heat, the loss of control. She ran her hand down the back of his hair, damp with his own sweat, and leaned forward, drawing her mouth down the curve of his ear, pulling the lobe and biting down. "Harder." She ordered in a heavy voice.

Sawyer stopped all movement, and for a second, Wilhelmina feared he would withdraw from her and walk away. She felt him take a deep breath and just as she was about to urge him to continue, she inhaled loudly in surprise when he lifted her other leg and took her with more force than he ever had.

When her legs locked around him, he dug his fingers into her hips and kept her pelvis pushed tight to the door, slamming his body to hers. Wilhelmina threw one hand up against the wall and instantly Sawyer's came up to clasp it as he pulled his head from her neck and placed eager kisses along her jaw.

His thrusts became, harder and faster, they lost their deliberate timing as he felt her walls clench around him and his own muscles tightening. Squeezing the hand he held against the wall, he pushed his lips roughly to hers and with another jolt of his hips, felt her cry out against him as her body was overcome once again. The sounds coming from her and the feel of her body responding to his was all he needed to follow her over the brink and he took great shuddering gulps of air as he joined her in her climax.

Skin against skin, sweat mixing and limbs entwined; they let their bodies cool and the shaking of their bodies calm before they raised their eyes to each other. So close, their noses were almost touching, they could feel the thudding of the other's heart and their chest pressed against one and other as they took their deep calming breaths.

Sawyer kissed her swollen lips lightly, ever so slightly pulling on the bottom one, running his tongue along it. "That was...unexpected." He spoke in a hushed, sated voice.

Wilhelmina felt the corners of her mouth lift in the beginning of a smile, she cupped his face and brought it closer to hers and pressed her forehead against him.

"I just needed you."

_Nothing's wrong, just as long as you know  
>That someday I will. Someday, somehow<br>I'm gonna make it all right but not right now  
>I know you're wondering when<em>

When the next day arrived, Wilhelmina felt as if the cloud had partially been lifted. She knew she had a long way to go, but at least she knew she wasn't completely dead inside. Sawyer had a renewed light about him, as if the previous night had somehow set their relationship back on the right track.

Daniel had arrived back at the apartment later that evening, just as she was retrieving Sawyer's discarded shirt and belt from the floor. Their eyes had met and, in an unspoken agreement, neither mentioned their altercation yesterday, or her subsequent breakdown, and he did not broach the subject of the items she held in her hands. Merely nodded at her and entered the guest room, beckoning Hudson, who happily trotted behind.

Getting out of the bed, she stretched and her muscles screamed in protest. She stretched again, just because it was good to feel it. She pulled on her robe, just as there was a knock at the door. She opened it and was met with a fully dressed Daniel. She closed the door again partially to shield him from seeing the man still asleep in her bed. Daniel looked over her shoulder and spotted him anyway, but didn't react. He looked down at her.

"Why aren't you ready?"

"Ready?"

"The will. Willie the reading's in under an hour." He explained to her as if she were a child.

Ignoring his tone of voice, she shook her head brusquely. "Daniel, your mom amended the will after we divorced. I don't need to be there...unless it's because you want-"

"No." He cut her off. "The lawyer said you're in it...so get dressed. The car's outside."

She tried to close the door, but he stopped it and peered deep in her eyes, squinting as he searched her. "You're still not okay are you?"

"No." She admitted softly and resisted the temptation to either pull at Daniel or look back to Sawyer. "But I will be."

She closed the door and walked to her wardrobe, why was she in the will? Had Claire still bequeathed something to her, even though she had divorced her son? What the hell was she meant to wear to a will reading?

She looked up and down the racks. Should she wear black? It was still a sombre occasion after all. She tried to recall if Daniel had been in a black suit or not, but all she could see was his eyes. She sighed heavily and pulled a deep purple dress from the closet. She could still mourn and look fabulous at the same time.

_How the hell did we wind up like this?  
>Why weren't we able, to see the signs that we missed<br>And try to turn the tables_

DJ had wanted to be present at the reading of his grandmothers will, he felt he was old enough and it was his right as he had been told he was included. Alexis had thought otherwise, which was why a very disgruntled DJ could be heard slamming doors upstairs as Alexis, Daniel and Wilhelmina waited in the study.

The Executor of the Meade estate, was straightening out his papers in front of him, all three thought he was stalling on purpose; probably used to sitting before money hungry families, salivating at the thought of what they had been left.

They supposed it had been a long time since he sat before a family that couldn't give a damn. They looked up as he cleared his throat.

"The Last Will and Testament of Claire Margaret Meade." He held up a shiny disc and all three groaned.

"Did she not remember the farce with Dad's?" Alexis whined.

"Here's hoping she was slightly more technically minded than him." The lawyer smiled tightly, remembering the incident clearly.

"And that Betty didn't interrupt her." Daniel added.

The lawyer walked from behind Bradford's old desk and slipped the disc into the player. After a second of static, the picture cleared and the three spectators all glued their eyes to the screen as a smiling Claire came into focus, sat behind the very desk in the room they were in.

"_Hello all."_All three mouths lifted in a bitter smile at hearing her voice, they had been unprepared for this.

"_If you're watching this then...oh hell I sound like one of those ridiculous suicide notes you see in the movies...but still, if you're watching this then it means I have been reunited with your father."_They all watched as Claire leaned forward and pretended to whisper at the screen. _"Or in your case Wilhelmina, your father-in-law-slash-ex-fiancè."_

Wilhelmina felt the smile on her face broaden. _"What...you didn't honestly think I'd die without one final dig did you? And now I truly do have the last word."_She beamed brightly at the camera. _"Or of course it's possible that I'm still very much alive and one of you lot have gone snooping...which is quite likely."_

"_Now onto the unpleasantness at hand. As you all know, it is my wishes that my personal belongings; clothes and jewellery be sold at auction. Unless of course, there is anything which hold sentimental value to any of you, in which case, you may of course have it."_

"_The house, well the house should traditionally pass to you Alexis; but I hope you understand that I wish to leave it to Daniel. You have your life in Europe now and Daniel...well I still want Daniel to have somewhere he calls home. Daniel, darling, I know how you feel about this house and I do not want you holding onto it simply because it runs in the Meade bloodline. A house does not make a family...sell it...don't sell it, just be happy."_

"_Alexis; I leave to you the Tuscan Villa and the town house in London, I hope you can make some memories there. My cars...my other babies, I leave to Daniel Junior...Alexis I really do feel you should drop the Junior from his name...as I know he has become quite the enthusiast, with only three exceptions. Daniel; I leave to you the Bentley which your father bought me shortly after we married. It's old, but it's classic...and I know that's how you like your cars...and your women apparently. You know it's not as enjoyable flinging barbs at you when you can't fight back Wilhelmina"_

"One day old woman...one day." She spoke quietly to the screen, grinning.

"_Alexis; I know how much you always loved the Rolls, arrangements have already been made to ship it to France after I am gone. And the third exception; Wilhelmina, I leave you my Blue Aston Martin, I'm sure you will appreciate why."_

Daniel looked sideways and he could swear his mother and ex-wife were somehow sharing a grin through the screen.

"_All monetary assets are to be divided between Daniel and Alexis, after a 25% share is put into trust for DJ when he turns 21. All stocks and shares have to be divided equally again between my two children; unless you decide to sell, in which case a further 25% of the profits made must, again, go to DJ."_

"_I requested to be buried with my wedding rings long ago and if I haven't been I will haunt you all. The jewellery in the locked cabinet in the dining room is not to be sold at auction. There are several pieces in there which belong in a museum. My lawyer has details of which pieces have to be sent where. The diamond ring which Bradford gifted me with on my 50th__birthday now belongs to Alexis. There are two matching signet rings which belonged to Bradford, one is for Daniel, the other for DJ, and the emerald necklace I bequeath to Wilhelmina...Daniel always said he liked the way emeralds made your eyes shine."_

Both Daniel and Wilhelmina kept their stare well away from each other and focussed solely on the television, where Claire smiled out at the screen, silently, as if she were still trying to tell them something from beyond the grave.

"_Lastly...the beach house, the villa I bought in Aruba after your father passed. It has come to mean a great deal to me, a perfect place for reflection and relaxation. I leave this to you Daniel..."_She paused. "_...and to you too Wilhelmina. I give this gift to you both with the hope that you use it for the purpose it was intended for...to reflect."_

"_And that, as they say, is that. So if you have, in fact, not merely been snooping, and I am indeed gone; I want you all to know I was happy. I have had a happy life and I have loved...I wish you all the same."_

The screen turned to static again but all three remained tuned into it, willing her back on to the screen. The lawyer stood up and switched off the set. "Well I think that was all perfectly clear, do any of you need to see it again?"

"No." They all answered quietly.

Wilhelmina was shaking her head. "What?" Daniel asked.

"How can she...I thought you had to be of sound mind when you did these things, how could she have left me so much as a one dollar bill."

Daniel, on the other hand, was not the least bit surprised that Claire had included Wilhelmina. He reached over the side of the chair and squeezed her hand. "Because you were her family."

"But a house Daniel...she left us a house."

"Us?" He questioned, optimistic at her use of the word.

"Well yeah, she said to both of us, but you can have it, I'll sign it over right now." She stammered.

"Nope." Daniel said squeezing her hand tighter. "It's ours."

Daniel leaned back in the chair and reluctantly let Wilhelmina's hand fall; all three leaned back and clasped their hands over their laps.

Alexis was silently thanking her mother for leaving such a legacy behind for DJ, for ensuring he would be taken care of, no matter what.

Wilhelmina was puzzling why the woman could possibly have left her any part of the Meade family estate. They had become close friends, almost best she could admit to herself, but to leave her things that were also a part of Bradford's past, when she had tried to take him from her...

Daniel was consumed by the intentions of his mother leaving him a house to share with Wilhelmina and could think only one thing.

_Thank you Mom._

_Now the story's played out like this  
>Just like a paperback novel<br>Let's rewrite an ending that fits  
>Instead of a Hollywood horror<br>Nothing's wrong, just as long as you know  
>That someday I will, someday, somehow<br>I'm gonna make it all right but not right now_

_I know you're wondering when_


	29. You're Not Alone

**You're not alone**

_In a way it´s all a matter of time  
>I will not worry for you<em>

_You´ll be just fine  
>Take my thoughts with you and when you look behind<br>You will surely see a face that you recognize_

He didn't want to admit it, but he had a tiny drop of sweat threatening to fall off his nose, down on Wilhelmina's table. He hoped she couldn't see it, because you never show the other person you're scared when so much depends on them. That was Marc's situation: everything depended on the single sentence that would come out Wilhelmina's mouth in mere moments.

So he stared at the top of her head, as she read carefully through the mockup book he'd taken to her apartment that day. The same mockup book he'd spent days, and most of his nights too, analyzing page after page, article after article, picture after picture. Everything had been studied in the deepest detail, trying to convey to the issue the same sparkling splendor it had every time Wilhelmina worked on it.

He straightened up when Wilhelmina made a noise he couldn't quite interpret, but as quick as it had come she was back to reading, not paying any attention to his nerves, who were so clearly going to break down soon if she kept silently turning the pages.

He opened his mouth, but Wilhelmina lifted a finger, silencing him, and he shut up immediately. She turned a couple more pages, before she splayed her fingers on the glossy photograph on the right page and sighed. She leaned back against the back of the chair and stared into Marc's eyes.

"I'm fired, am I?" he whispered.

"I might fire you," she said, shaking her head. "Because this, what you did…is absolutely flawless. And to think I've been complaining about being without a Creative Director, when you actually managed to pull this off without anyone's help…It's just beyond me. You might be even better than me, Marc. I might have to fire you, or kill you."

Marc sighed and laughed in relief. "Shut up," he said, but she lifted an eyebrow he turned straight. "I mean, of course I'm not better than you." He perched himself on the edge of the chair and toyed with the small plant in the middle of the table. "And I'm sure you could've done it too, if you'd been in…"

"My right state of mind?" she finished the sentence for him, closing the book. Marc looked down, almost ashamed of what he'd implied, but Wilhelmina shook her head. "It's fine, I know I'm in no state to put out an issue. Whenever I try to work, be it the simplest thing like watching the catalogues piled up in my kitchen, I just stand there and look at them, and I wonder what the point of all this is because…What is fashion, what is clothes when I can barely keep on my feet without help from the outside?"

He felt the awkwardness creep upon him when she looked down on the book, he looked down too and saw her hand clenched in a fist. He closed his eyes and prayed to God she wouldn't cry. He was not sure he could live through another one of her breakdowns. He was not used to her being like this, she was his rock, not the other way around. She was the one to kick him in the ass, to slap him hard when he did something wrong. She was the mother, the older sister, the wiser friend he knew he could count on for a reaction.

But she didn't cry, on the contrary she looked back up and forced herself in what resembled a smile. "You did an incredible job," she said, nodding. "I'm very proud. And thankful. We would be nowhere without you. And not just because of this," she added, pointing to the closed mockup book. "For everything. Thank you, Marc."

The boy smiled and nodded once, courteously. "I aim to please, Ma'am," he stated.

She smiled, then a noise caught their attentions and both their smiles widened when they heard the unmistakable yapping coming from the hall. The not-so-little-anymore blonde tornado came hurrying into the room, probably having perceived the presence of someone familiar, and in fact as soon as he located Marc he ran fast and jumped on his back legs, trying to reach for Marc, his tail waggling madly, and his tongue dangling dangerously.

"Oh look who's here!" Marc exclaimed, trying to get his face away from the drooling mass, but stroked the dog's muzzle affectionately. "If it isn't the incredible Mister Four-Legged New York's champion!"

Wilhelmina chuckled deep in her throat and moved her eyes on the threshold where Sawyer watched the scene with a soft look on his face. He winked when he noticed her gaze and she returned the gesture.

And there it was, the pang of guilt. She tried to shove it away, like she'd been doing for the past days every time their eyes met, afraid he would read it across her features. She hurriedly looked away, deciding Marc and Hudson were a much safer subject. Sawyer walked into the room and came up behind her, placing his hands on her shoulders and rubbing gently before bending to kiss her temple.

Marc, busy with Hudson, didn't miss Wilhelmina's rigid posture, and he glanced in her direction discreetly; the two exchanged a quick look that spoke volumes.

"So, Summer's drawing closer," Marc exclaimed, trying hard to avoid Wilhelmina the heavy burden of making small talk. "You have any plans, Sawyer? Going back to the deep South to ride a few horses? Shirtless?"

"Actually," Sawyer said, sitting down next to Wilhelmina, keeping an arm around her shoulders and holding her close. Wilhelmina couldn't tell why suddenly, such PDAs sickened her. "I was thinking we might go to Aruba this Summer."

Wilhelmina's head snapped around so quickly Marc was afraid she was getting an ictus. "What?" she asked breathlessly.

"Yeah," Sawyer continued. "I mean, unless it's too early for you, you know…" he trailed off, and his arm slowly slid down Wilhelmina's shoulders and away from her body, as the ice in her eyes seemed to freeze him too. "It is," he said, finally. "I'm sorry, I didn't wanna upset you."

"Yeah," she said, swallowing. "I just…I don't think I'm ready to feast over the table mere months after Claire's death," she said a hint of resent in her voice. Marc humbled something, but Wilhelmina didn't pay attention. "I'm asking you to respect that," she concluded, staring into Sawyer's eyes, hard.

"Of course, I know it must be difficult," the man said, standing up. "Well, now I think I… I must be going."

"What, you're not staying tonight?" she asked.

"Oh, I don't know," he said, evasively. "I might have a few errands to run tomorrow morning, I don't wanna wake you up. Don't worry, I'll be here to take Hudson out." He smiled, but it came out awkward and turned around leaving the room-

Wilhelmina stared after him and turned to Marc, confused. "Did he just walk out because he didn't like what I told him?" she asked.

"Guess so," he said, raising his eyebrows, pretending to be focused on Hudson.

"What is he, sixteen?" she insisted, the rage building inside. "What was I supposed to say? _Yes, Sawyer, and why don't we go take a bite on Claire's grave too if you'd like_? He's so immature! See Marc? That's what happens when you date younger people!"

Marc furrowed his forehead. "He's one year older than Daniel."

"What side are you on?" she hissed. "Daniel was…"

"Different," he finished for her, this time, nodding. "I know. Everybody knows. I think Sawyer knows too. And you know, for sure." He paused, thinking carefully about what he was going to say next. "Willie, maybe you should…"

"Don't," she warned him, and the tone in her voice suggested the conversation was over. They were interrupted by the blessed ringing of the phone, which she took hastily, looking for any distraction from the subject. But she halted her every movement, looking down at the screen.

"Is that him?" Marc asked.

"No," she said, bewildered. "It's Alexis. Why is she calling? She and DJ left two days ago."

"Maybe it's legal stuff for the will…" he tried. Collecting the stuff from the table, he smiled. "I'm gonna leave you and you countless _Meade related dramas_."

"Hey, mourning woman over here!" she called after him. "It's too soon to abuse me!"

Marc waved casually and left the room, leaving Wilhelmina and Hudson alone in the room to deal with the incoming call. With a deep sigh, and after Hudson's annoyed grumble, she answered.

_You´re not alone_

_I´ll wait till the end of time  
>Open your mind<em>

_Surely it´s plain to see_

"You need anything?" asked Julia, peeking into the main room where Fey and the least expected visitor were sitting. She hid her smile, but seeing her niece there was good, it was good for Fey too. In the past days, Amanda had been there often, and she could swear Fey's mood had gone from dark to bright. She was her sister, she could see it in her eyes.

"No, Julia," Fey said, and tilted her head to the side, clearly inviting the woman to leave the room. Julia did as asked, glad to leave the two women to deal with their issues, but still happy for what Amanda's presence seemed to be ding to her sister.

"So…" Amanda continued when she heard the door closing softly behind her aunt and Fey returned her gaze on her, seemingly interested in whatever she was going to say. "It's been four days. Four days I've come here, four days we've talked about your past and my past. I think it's time we…What about your future?" she asked, lowering her voice. "Now that everyone knows you're alive, you can't expect to keep it on the down low."

"That was the least of my expectations, Amanda," she said, patronizingly. "My intention, is to go back at Mode." Amanda snorted and for the first time in those four days she saw a hint of distress on her mother's face. "You seem to doubt me."

"Oh well," she hurried. "It doesn't sound very… easy. Actually, I think it's pretty safe to say you're never going back to Mode. It's not about Claire," she added quickly when Fey tried to interrupt her. "I know you didn't kill her, and they know too. But you need to understand, Mode is Daniel's, now. And Wilhelmina's, mostly Wilhelmina's. There's no way he'll ever take it from her."

"Then I need to make sure Mode doesn't belong to Daniel Meade," Fey explained.

Amanda shook her head. "Mother. Listen to me. Stop this. Stop going against these people, stop messing with them. I know the day you left you were the most powerful woman in the world of fashion, but a long time has passed since then. You have to live with it."

Fey's eyes darkened for an instant, but she shook her head and plastered a fake smile on. "Maybe you're right."

"Oh come on," Amanda exclaimed, rolling her eyes but she couldn't keep a grin from curving her lips. "You expect me to believe that? I'm the master of the _maybe I'm right_, and then go and do the exact opposite! I've done that ever since I was two! _Maybe you're right Dad, I shouldn't be eating candies before going to bed,_and then I fell asleep with a bunch of Redvines hidden under the pillow. You can't kid me. I'm your daughter. All you are, I am. It's genetic, I'm sorry. I suppose you could say I _am_you."

Fey smirked. "I never thought I could be so damn annoying."

"It comes with being awesome," the girl said, shrugging and winking. Fey leaned back against the high chair and studied her daughter, and the almost natural camaraderie that was growing in between them.

Could it be that this was all she needed? Could it be that this was all she had needed all along?

_You´re not alone_

_I´ll wait till the end of time for you  
>Open your mind<em>

_Surely there´s time to be with me_

Wilhelmina was in the limo. She was mesmerized by her own outfit: a pain of washed out jeans, a black coat and a simple white shirt underneath, all finished with a pair of black platforms. Never go without heels, no matter the rest of the outfit. She stared ahead and took off her sunglasses.

"We can't do this," she said, staring ahead. "I love you, but I need to set some rules. We need ground rules, because I can't let you walk all over me. And trust me, I've never loved anyone like I love you, and that's saying something, what we have is special. But…" She turned her head to the side. "You really need to control yourself."

Hudson was sitting on the leather seat of the limo, his tongue dangling to the side while he tried to understand this new adventure; he had never been in a stretch limo before. His head touched the top of the car, and Wilhelmina had to crane her neck up to look the dog in the eyes.

"Hudson, I thought I'd made it clear you were going to come with me under the condition you stay on the floor of the car," she continued. She noticed the driver glancing in the rearview mirror, probably wondering whether she'd finally lost her mind like everyone had been expecting. "Hudson, get off the seat."

The dog, in response, lifted his paw on the armrest and found the button that lowered the car's window. He stuck his head out and the moderate air coming from outside moved his hanging ears. Wilhelmina snorted and tried to grab him by the collar, pulling him back into the car, but he had become much stronger than her. He just vetoed it and remained in the same position.

"God you're stubborn," Wilhelmina whispered, giving up. She was thankful when the car pulled up to a stop. She took the leash in her left hand and opened the car's door. Hudson, with a jump, went right over her and she her to run after him as he dragged her through the garden of the big mansion. The Meade mansion.

"HUDSON!" she yelled, and pointed her feet against the ground till the dog accepted her orders and stopped. "You better come to terms with the fact I'm not Sawyer, I'm not a huge Texan who can do whatever you want! You probably weigh more than me!"

The dog tilted his head.

"Oh shut up," she said, and they both went up the stairs. When she stood in front of the big entrance door, she pondered whether she should just use the spare key she had never given back. Before she could make her mind up, however, the door opened up and a short, chubby maid motioned for her to walk in.

She and Hudson stepped in, under the shocked gaze of the woman who, either had never seen Wilhelmina in a pair of jeans, or was simply thinking about what the muddy paws of the four-legged visitor might do to the expensive parquet.

Wilhelmina took off her coat and hung it on the hanger, then turned to the woman and asked, "Where is he?"

"Upstairs, Ma'am," the other answered, nodding and pointing to the staircase. "I've never seen Master Meade like this Miss Meade."

"Slater," Wilhelmina said. "It's Mrs Slater, now."

The woman's cheekbones reddened when she realized the slip and with a small bow she scurried away, leaving Wilhelmina alone in the hall. With a deep sigh, she held onto Hudson's leash tighter and went up the stairs, trying to make as little noise as possible. Once upstairs, she stopped to hear any sound that might suggest where Daniel might be. When she did, it didn't surprise her one bit.

She walked into the room on the right, the master bedroom. Claire and Bradford's room, and when she did she gasped. The bed, the furniture, the tapestry and the paintings were gone. The room was empty, and the floor was covered in old newspapers, held together with scotch. In the middle were three buckets full of a dense, vivid red liquid. Daniel was standing next to the buckets, looking ahead at the wall. When he heard someone walking in he turned around, and took a moment to take in her appearance and Hudson.

"Jeans?" he asked. "Who are you and what have you done to Wilhelmina?"

"Daniel, what are you doing?" Wilhelmina asked, letting the leash slide out of her hand and Hudson ran to Daniel, who gladly crouched down and showered the dog with affection.

"I mean, not that I have never seen you in jeans," he continued, not giving any sign that he'd heard her. "But I was under the impression you'd gone back to your _strictly over 2,000$_policy."

"Don't change the subject?" Wilhelmina exclaimed. "Where's your mother's stuff?"

Daniel straightened himself up and looked around. "Oh, I just thought I might…I don't know, change it a bit."

"But, why?" Wilhelmina continued, clearly not seeing any reason in his behavior. Was he trying to erase his mother? Was that his own way to exorcise the place off the bad memories that brought back?

"No reason, really," he said, looking down into the red paint. "You think red might suit the room?" he asked, bending to take a couple of big brushes from a plastic bag and dropping them into the bucket. "I know it's very bachelorish, but then again, this is what it is supposed to be. I am single."

Wilhelmina swallowed and ignored the ironic comment. "I see that," she said. Hudson, meanwhile, had curled in a ball at Daniel's feet. She walked further into the room.

"Daniel-"

"Don't," he said. "Please. Don't go and _Wilhelmina_everything up."

"Wilhelmina's not a verb," she retorted.

"It is," he explained. "It means I'm asking you not to start rationalizing my doing. We're gonna discuss, we're gonna fight, we're gonna have to go through a rigmarole of empty words that will ultimately end up with you slamming the door behind you, and me throwing all my good plans in the air." He paused and looked at the blank wall. "I'm doing this."

Wilhelmina bent and casually picked up the two brushes, now dripping in red paint. She handed one to Daniel and walked to the wall. "I wasn't going to stop you," she said, with a first stroke. "But I'm going to help you," she added.

He nodded and came to stand beside her. He hesitated and looked at her. "Thank you," he whispered. "I need to keep busy. I need to have a goal. I couldn't walk into this room anymore, it was driving me mad."

"I know," she said, never taking her eyes off the red paint she was clumsily spreading on the blank surface. "I'm sorry I barged in here without asking, but…I just…" she paused and closed her eyes. "I love you."

Daniel tilted his head to the side and Wilhelmina snorted and shook her head to herself.

"I mean, I _care_about you," she explained. "And despite everything, I want to be there."

She turned her head and found herself drowning in the light blue of his eyes, only now deeply understanding how much she'd wanted to be close to Daniel in that moment. He needed her, no one else. It might be conceited, but she was the only one he needed. And she wanted to be there.

"Now, work," she said, nodding to the brush he was holding. "You don't think I'm gonna do all the work by myself, do you?"

Daniel smiled and started mimicking her movements. After a couple minutes, Wilhelmina let herself steal a glance in his direction and felt the lump in her throat get only bigger and bigger as she wished, against her better judgment, she were still his wife.

_It is the distance that makes life a little hard  
>Two minds that once were close<em>

_Now so many miles apart  
>I will not falter though<em>

_I´ll hold on till you´re home  
>Safely back where you belong<em>

_And see how our love has grown_

After spending the whole afternoon in his own apartment, brooding over Wilhelmina's annoying behavior, and his own childish reactions, he had decided to go back to her place: explain himself, apologize, and show her he knew what she was going through, but that alone would not be enough to be an obstacle into their path.

But when he walked in, later that evening, the house was dark. Not even the barking sound he was used to hearing welcomed him. Where was she? And why had she taken Hudson with her? He switched on the light in the dining room and sighed when he took its emptiness in. He was used to finding Hudson in there, or Wilhelmina, both on the couch. He could almost picture them, she turning lazily the pages of one of her girly magazines, the puppy chewing on some expensive piece of clothing.

He dropped his leather jacket on the couch and placed his hands on his hips. He decided he would wait there, for her return. Maybe it was a sign he had to think carefully about what he was going to say, and he had the time to do that. She was in a state, and anything he would say might set her off, so he had to really think it carefully through. He spied the laptop that sat on the table in the middle of the room, so he shrugged and went to sit in front of hit.

As soon as he touched the touchpad with a finger, the screen lit up showing him the home of and he smiled as he scrolled the page down. So many people he had never heard of, and a few he had only known since he'd started going out with her. He could even find a couple people he had actually spoken to during one of the many events she would occasionally drag him to. He hit the _refresh_ button and the a new post replaced the old ones: he recognized the mansion immediately, the Meade family house.

He didn't read the title at first, but then he saw the small caption in the bottom right corner of the picture. He frowned and took out his phone, dialing the familiar number. She picked out after a few rings.

"Hey," he said.

"Hey," Wilhelmina answered, her voice low. "Look, I'm in a meeting, can I call you back?"

"Sure," he said, his eyes fixed on the picture on the screen. He snapped the phone shut and placed it on the table, next to the laptop, where the plate number of Wilhelmina's car blinked at him, as the car was immortalized speeding up through the gates of the Meade mansion.

He knew he shouldn't jump to conclusion, but why had she lied? He let his eyes wander on the page, and they stopped on the title, in big, black letters:_Wilhelmina to the rescue._ Something inside him told him h should read the article, but instead he just shut the laptop down, more forcefully than he wanted to. He remained sitting in the chair, biting the inside of his cheek, and looking at the phone.

Should he call her again? Give her a chance to explain? And what if she got mad at him for using her laptop? What if she thought he didn't trust her? But most of all, and he was appalled to realize he didn't know the answer, did he trust her? She had lied on her whereabouts, she wouldn't have felt the need if it hadn't been something she hadn't want him to find out.

He drummed his fingers on the rough material of his jeans, trying to find a way to work the anger out, but nothing he tried to think about seemed to calm him down, nor reassure him. The truth was, he was threatened by Daniel Meade, like he'd never been in his whole life. The name alone was enough to make him doubt himself, whenever it would escape her lips. But what scared him the most were not the times she'd mentioned him, but rather the times she didn't, because he didn't know whether she was thinking of him.

He could do all he wanted, to try and compensate his absence on the outside, but he was worried about the inside. How could he fill the void inside her heart, when she didn't let him in completely? Why did she have to go and give him reasons not to trust her? He wanted to trust her completely, but every time he thought they were making progresses, something happened that took her away from him, every day a bit further away so that he couldn't reach for her. It wasn't the physical distance that hurt him, it was the emotional one.

_You´re not alone_

_I´ll wait till the end of time  
>Open your mind<em>

_Surely it´s plain to see  
>You´re not alone<em>

Daniel and Wilhelmina were sitting on the dirty floor of the bedroom, looking ahead, their heads tilted as the admired their job on the first completed wall. The shade of red was lighter, on the surface, than it was in the bucket, more vivid. He was cross-legged, toying with the hem of his shirt; she laid back on her hands, her legs crossed at the ankles.

"It's not like I thought it would be," he said. "I wanted it redder."

"Redder?" Wilhelmina asked. "Any redder, and I would need a corneal transplant."

"That would be a shame," he said. "You have pretty corneas."

"You didn't just use the word _pretty_talking to me, did you?" she said, raising an eyebrow.

"I called you _pretty_all the time," he said. After a pause, he snorted. "Yeah, and you got mad all the time. Sorry, forgot."

"I prefer the word _dashing._ _Hot._Or _incredibly stunning_will do too."

"I called you all that too," he said, with a hint of sadness impossible to disguise.

Wilhelmina nodded and bit her bottom lip. "I know," she whispered, letting her eyes wander down her own legs, trying to escape Daniel's gaze. Why was it all of a sudden to remember the bad stuff? Why all she could think of was how good they'd been together, all the positive things that had come out of their marriage?

Her phone began ringing, and as much as she tried to ignore it at first, just like she'd done for the past three hours they'd spent together, Daniel was clearly of a different opinion. He shot a glance at her bag, that lay abandoned on the floor in between them. Even Hudson lifted his head, seemingly disturbed by the noise.

"He might be worried," he said, simply. There was no need to say who he was referring to, they both knew who the caller was. "I know I would be," he added, with a small smile.

With a sigh, she thrust her hand in the purse and moved it around a bit until her fingers closed around the Blackberry. She took it out and checked the caller, frowning. "It's not Sawyer," she said, tilting her head. "It's me."

"What?" he asked, lifting an eyebrow.

She turned the phone and showed the ID: _"Mode, office"_.

"Someone's calling from my office," she continued. She brought the device to her ear and answered. "Wilhelmina Slater."

There was a pause and Daniel saw Wilhelmina relax when she heard the voice on the other end. Her features went from concerned to pensive, to unsure and confused. "I don't know, Marc," he heard her say, and shook his head to try and make her tell him the reason of the call.

She lay her hand on the phone and shrugged. "He's at Mode," she told him. "He's with the supervisor,

they're going through the damages caused by the fire. He wants to know if I want to go."

"And do you?" he asked.

"I don't know," she said, honestly not knowing if she was ready to go back to the place that had betrayed them all.

"What if I come with you?" he suggested. He wasn't ready, she wasn't ready. On their own, they would never be ready, but together they were stronger. It had always been like that: singularly, they were too very vulnerable individuals, but together, they were a force of nature. And if there was anyone he wanted, next to him, the first time he stepped back into that building, it was her and no one else.

She took a deep, shaky breathe, considering his offer. But what exactly was he offering? Was he just going with her to get over his own fears? No. He was not like that. He was going with her because he wanted her to get over hers. And if he was working through his issues too, it said a lot that he wanted her next to him, when all he'd done in the last days had been pushing her away.

"I'd like that," she said, finally, and turned back to Marc, who was waiting on the phone. He heard her make arrangements, telling him they would be there in half an hour. He returned his stare on the red wall, and he saw it.

The color had not been applied well, there were spots darker than others. Here and there, lumps of colors ruined the smoothness of the surface. The corners were smudged. It was a mess.

"Maybe," he began when he heard her disconnect the call. "Maybe this was a bad idea."

Wilhelmina follow his stare and smiled. "We really suck, don't we?" she said, grinning.

"We really do!"

_I´ll wait till the end of time for you  
>Open your mind<em>

_Surely there´s time to be with me_

_You´re not alone_

_Surely there´s time to be with me  
>Open your mind<em>

Daniel felt the cool chill as soon as the elevator doors opened. He looked to the side, and saw Wilhelmina step out first. He held the Hudson's leash tighter in his hand and followed her and they remained still, as the sight of an empty, silent Mode welcomed them. They stood there and let the blackened walls talk to them.

The place seemed so hostile now.

It was weird how they both felt like they hadn't been there in ages, and as a matter of fact neither could remember the last time they'd actually_been_there. Why had they let it fall apart? Wilhelmina took a step, small, a way for her to say she was there, like a mother reassures her kid this time she was there to stay.

And that was exactly what she wanted to tell her baby, Mode. She was sorry she had left it alone, ruled by people who were not her. All of the efforts to have it for hers, and to what purpose? Only to let it go. Not now, now she was there to make amend.

They were distracted by the noises coming from the adjacent room, and Daniel placed a hand on the small of her back, guiding her away from her thoughts, which he knew must be killing her with guilt. Hudson followed loyally, not questioning his masters for a second.

The big orange donut stood in the middle of the room, as if it had been waiting for them. Behind it, Marc stood, bent over with a tall man, analyzing something on the big map unrolled on the desk. The man tapped on Marc's shoulder, when he saw them, and the boy immediately lifted his gaze and straightened up. "Oh, you're here," he said, cheerily. "Good, we were just going over the final details."

Wilhelmina swallowed loudly and nodded. She turned to Daniel and opened her mouth to say something, but Daniel shook his head. "It's ok," he said. "I'm here."

Marc bit his bottom lip, feeling an intruder looking into too much of an intimate scene he should not be witnessing. Wilhelmina cleared her voice and walked up to the desk, determination in her eyes and in her gait. "Show me," she said, gesturing to the plan. Marc turned it upside down, and the other man began explaining in details what was to be done, and how.

Daniel looked form his position, just a few feet away, with Hudson breathing loudly at his feet. He wasn't listening, he was studying Wilhelmina's face, the complete focus on what the other man was saying. He knew she would make it her mission, from now on, to bring Mode back to the number one spot on her priorities list. He knew her well enough to be sure she would do all in her power to prove a point, to prove she hadn't changed.

He saw the businesswoman talk animatedly to the supervisor, discuss solutions and financial aids, and Daniel saw the old Wilhelmina creep back in. Not the one who made it her life goal to destroy him, but rather the one who was content with her life and completely focused on her work. The Wilhelmina he had fallen in love with after he had stopped trying so hard to hate her.

That was it. The frail, vulnerable shade of the woman she had been was disappearing with each word, replaced by a strong, confident person, ready to take her life back in order, ready to put together the pieces he had so carelessly shattered in his own destruction process. She was ready to make it happen.

She was moving on, this time for real. She was now ready to forgive him, she was ready to put the pieces of her life back together, with or without him. They were all, now, just options in her life. It was no longer up to them to fight for her, or to her to choose. They were just details in a much bigger plan.

Wilhelmina Slater was alive again, and it was Mode who had brought her back to life.

_You´re not alone_

_I´ll wait till the end of time  
>Open your mind<em>

_Surely it´s plain to see_

When the keys turned into the keyhole, she was hit by the sudden realization of the man who would be waiting inside and the explanations she would have to give for her and Hudson's absence, for the whole day. She hated giving explanations, but she knew she owed him that much. She had said she was in a meeting earlier…She could just say the meeting had gone on longer than any of them had foreseen, and that Hudson had been with Marc the whole day.

She opened the door and slid the collar from Hudson's neck. The dog ran down the corridor and disappeared out of sight. She sighed and dropped the collar and the leash on the floor, next to the door. With a deep sigh, knowing what was ahead, she set for the dining room. It was dark, except for the light coming from her laptop. She saw Sawyer, sitting by the table, looking at her.

She smiled. "This is a bit creepy, you know?" she attempted a joke, but he wasn't buying it. He just stared at her, his arms folded against his chest, not amused. "I'm sorry," she said, shaking her head. "I know you must've been worried, but I couldn't return your calls, the meeting went on and on for hours."

"There was no meeting." His voice was low and firm.

"What do you mean?" she asked.

He smiled and looked at the screen of her laptop and read out loud. "_Wilhelmina Slater to the rescue._You know, I might read the whole article, but I'm sure you know what it says already."

Wilhelmina pursed her lips. She was tired of the lies, tired of pretending, tired of having to justify her every move and say. She snorted and nodded. "What do you want me to say? I'm _not_sorry, if that's what you want. I did nothing to be ashamed of. Whether you like it or not, Sawyer. Do you understand what I'm saying?" she paused and look down. "I can't constantly reassure you. You have trust issues, and that is not my problem."

Sawyer stood up and slammed a hand down on the surface. The laptop, and Wilhelmina, jumped and the sudden move.

"I don't have fucking trust issues, or at least I didn't have any until I met you. You undermine my own character, Wilhelmina!" his voice was louder than necessary, and she hated it. She was the one shouting, usually. "How can I trust you when you're always up and running at your husband's side and_lying_about it?"

"EX husband."

"OH CUT THE CRAP!" he yelled. She gasped. "Yes, cut the crap Wilhelmina, you want me to believe you? Then do something to make me believe you? What am I supposed to feel? How do I know you're not…"

"I'm not what."

Sawyer was silent, but Wilhelmina was done with playing nice. She knew this day would come, when the nice guy from the south would clash with the big girl from New York City. She had told him it would come, she had feared this fight more than anything.

"Have the guts to finish the sentence!" she yelled. "Finish it, Sawyer! Say it!"

"Are you sleeping together?" he said, staring dead into her eyes. She read the desperation in his eyes.

"No," she stated.

"Have you slept together," he continued, never taking his eyes off her. "…after the retreat?"

She had always suspected he knew about the retreat, but hearing it out loud shed a new light on the man. He had been a saint, supporting her through her ups and downs, giving her nothing but love and devotion. How could she lie? She had not slept with Daniel, but she had to say the truth.

"No," she repeated. "But there's been something."

Sawyer's shoulders fell a little more, if possible, and she would give anything to take away a bit of the weight he was carrying alone. She knew, now, he was the rebound guy, always had been. And despite caring about the man, she should have known better than to embark in a relationship so soon. She would only break his heart, she was well aware of that.

"I'm sorry," she whispered.

"I don't care," he said, taking a few steps forward. "I don't wanna hear anymore."

She was amazed at how her heart skipped a beat. Was he leaving? Was he, the only thing that had kept her afloat for all this time, leaving her alone?

"Don't go," she said, pledging. "I don't want you to go."

Sawyer walked p to her and nodded. "I'm not going anywhere," he whispered. "I love you. I can't go. But…I don't know how much longer I can take, of this coming in second. Don't make me leave, Willie."

Wilhelmina sneaked her arms around Sawyer's neck. She wasn't ready to let go. She would be selfish just a little bit more. Just until she was sure she was ready to start over on her own.

She hated herself for that last weakness.

_You´re not alone_

_I´ll wait till the end of time for you  
>Open your mind<em>

_Surely there´s time to be with me_


	30. We've Got Tonight

**We've Got Tonight**

Wilhelmina awoke with the realisation that she was no longer surrounded by the presence she had become accustomed to. She pushed the sleep mask onto her forehead and looked around. Yet again, she was without the warmth next to her and, yet again, it galled her that she missed it. Just as she had been used to waking up next to Daniel, she was now used to waking up next to him and it disconcerted her when he wasn't there when she opened her eyes.

Sawyer gave a particularly loud snore in her ear and she pushed at him with the flat of her hand, extricating herself from the vice like grip he had round her waist and slid from the bed. She slipped her feet into her heeled slippers and tied the deep purple robe around her and went in search of the elusive canine. She glanced over to her closet before leaving the room and released a sigh of relief when she saw the door tightly closed; at least he wasn't eating his way through her wardrobe.

It didn't take her long to find him. As soon as she stepped out the door, already slightly ajar, she could hear the excited whine of the dog and the unmistakable sounds of someone crooning to him a baby talk. She rounded the corner to find Marc down on his knees scratching Hudson's head and playing with his ears, letting the exuberant mutt lick him all over his face.

"Marc...stop turning my dog."

Marc looked up at her but didn't stop playing with Hudson who was now trying to put his paws on Marc's shoulders making it look like he was hugging him. "Turn? Willie this dog follows you everywhere, drools over Sawyer and has exceptional fashion taste, hate to break it to you but your dog is gay...hell, your dog is _me_."

"Not that I'm not pleased to see you at..." She squinted at the clock in the distance. "Five to seven in the morning, but what are you doing here and does nobody knock at my apartment anymore?"

"Is that anyway to greet your one time roomie?" He stood up, Hudson still leaping up at him.

"You weren't my roomie, you were my emotional crutch."

"Roomie's catchier." He grinned.

"Are you going to tell me why you're here, or just continue to get a body wash from Hudson?"

She walked away from him, into the kitchen, Hudson lollygagging at their heels. Reaching as usual for the coffee pot, she groaned when she saw the cupboards were bare. Slamming the pot down, she burled round to meet the smirking face of her friend; holding two cardboard cups of Starbucks finest. Willie didn't know where he'd produced them from, nor did she care as she gratefully took one of them and took a deep slug of the hot drink inside; no one got her coffee right quite like Marc.

Feeling instantly more like herself as the caffeine worked through her system, she asked him for the third time. "I'm guessing you're not just here because you somehow knew I was out of coffee...what's happened now?"

"Nothing, Scouts honour, no more drama I promise. I just had a very interesting call from Suzuki St Pierre that's all."

Her heckles instantly went up. "If this is about that ridiculous headline-"

"They want to do a profile on you." He cut her off, loudly, before she could get into full flow.

She stopped, her mouth still open from the beginning of her tirade. Her eyes were trained on Marc but her head was somewhere else. _A profile? Why now? It wasn't as if she hadn't been a force in the fashion fields for the past two decades, so why only now? They didn't do in depth profiles of people, preferring to keep to the easy yet enthralling world of gossip and hearsay._

"No."

Marc's smile abruptly fell and he shook his head, closing his eyes as if he had misheard her. "No? Willie, what do you mean no? Fashion Buzz has _never_aired a profile on _anyone_ before, it'll be yet another first attributed to you. You say no and you just know it's gonna go to Myers or Greybridge or-" He shuddered. "Wintour."

Wilhelmina sighed, pulling the eye-mask from where it had rested in her hair and tossed it on the counter. "No Marc, it won't, because this innocent little peek into the life of Wilhelmina Slater has nothing to do with what I've accomplished in my professional life, it'll be all about what I couldn't accomplish in my personal one. It'll be all about Daniel...Amanda, Claire, Sawyer. Forgive me if I don't want to relive it all quite yet...not when I feel like I'm just starting to come out of the other side."

Marc smiled at her gently and walked behind her, grabbing her by her upper arms and started to march her from the room.

"What are you doing?" He didn't answer her, just continued walking her down the hallway; internally grateful that she wasn't putting up more than a fight, he was pretty sure she could flatten him if she wanted to.

"Hudson sic 'em." She commanded the dog, who trotted behind them thinking they were playing some kind of game.

"You're a useless guard dog." She scolded him. "Marc, WHAT ARE YOU DOING!"

He stopped, now he had steered her into the lounge, and turned her to the side, forcing her to look in the full length mirror they had stopped in front of. Still with his hands holding the top of her arms, he leaned his head until it hovered over her shoulder and fixed his eyes on hers in the reflection.

"No, don't look at me, look at you."

"Marc, wh-"

"Do it Willie."

Stifling the urge to turn and strangle him for his manhandling of her and the tone he was using, she narrowed her eyes at him through the mirror, before doing as he asked and staring into her own reflection.

"Have you forgotten who you are?" He began. "Because I think you have. You are _Wilhelmina Slater_, you don't want to talk about Daniel, then don't. You don't want to talk about Claire's death, then don't. _You_ set the rules Willie, you always have."

She swallowed, uncomfortable under the close scrutiny of her friend. Marc held her arms tighter, in case she had the sudden urge to flee. "These past few months...you've been lost. Daniel and I stood in Mode yesterday and we watched you come back a little more with every step you took around that office. Now I don't know where the Wilhelmina I know went, but I do know that she's coming back...and it's time she showed the world."

He let go of her arms but stayed standing behind her, ready to defend his actions. Wilhelmina flitted her eyes briefly to meet his, before looking back at her reflection. Marc watched as she squared her shoulders, stood a little straighter and lifted her head a fraction higher. Slowly she turned her head from side to side, surveying every inch of her face. When her head was face on, she dipped her eyes to sweep up and down her body; looking up again, she inhaled deeply.

"I get full content control and they will sign whatever gag order I tell them to."

Marc nodded curtly behind her, stopping himself from bouncing on his feet as he saw Willie emerge from the cloud she had been under for so long.

"I want to view all the archived footage they might be using and any third party interviews must be run by me before they air."

"Absolutely."

Her gaze snapped to meet his in the reflection. "Call them."

_I know it's late,I know you're weary  
>I know your plans don't include me<br>Still here we are, both of us lonely  
>Longing for shelter from all that we see<em>

Daniel stood at the bottom of the stairs and smiled up at the exterior of the house, the chipped green paint over wooden panels was a million miles away from the houses he had grown up in. Most people would give their right arm to live in the palatial homes he had, and wouldn't spare a second glance at the generic building he was so enamoured by right now; but appearances were deceiving. Inside that house was something he had only fleeting memories of as a child, and it was the same reason he was smiling now, a family.

Although spring was truly underway in New York, in fact it was almost summer, the air still held the chill of winter, he pulled his wool coat tighter around him and blew into his cupped hands before hurrying up the stairs and slipping into the little porch, knocking on the door.

The smiling face that answered soon changed to a grimacing pout and the arms automatically crossed defensively over the chest.

"What no Team Slater shirt today?" Daniel smiled at Justin.

"To be fair I didn't know you were coming, luckily I have this for emergencies like these." The boy turned around and showed him the little button pinned to the side pocket of his black skinny jeans, bearing the two worded slogan.

Daniel snickered. "Is your Aunt home?"

Justin placed his hand on the door frame and turned inward, rolling his eyes. "Aunt Betty! That guy you worked for who I used to kinda like before he slept with that other person you used to work with who I also kinda liked before the two of them broke my fashion icon is heeeeere." He shouted up the stairs.

"Wouldn't it be a lot less syllables to say Daniel?" A voice called from upstairs. "Send him up."

"Ok, but keep the door open, you know what he's like."

"Ew Justin, don't be gross...and stop being mean. Send him up." Betty voice echoed down the stairs again.

Justin stood back and held the door open, exaggeratedly extending a hand for him to enter. Daniel walked in, still smiling at the young man's antics. The fact that he could smile about it now showed how far he had come in recent months. His smile as he climbed the stairs, he wondered if Willie knew she had such a ferocious little cheerleader in Jackson Heights.

He rapped gently on the door of Betty's room and pushed it open, a light chuckle burst from his lips as he looked around the room. The woman may have grown up and changed in the years he had known her, but this room still belonged to the little girl who had walked into the conference room in her 'high fashion' poncho. The pink walls, the stuffed animals, she even still had a Disney bedspread; although it was now sporting a Beauty and the Beast one, in lieu of The Little Mermaid.

The chuckle swiftly died, however, when his eyes finally landed on Betty; standing at the edge of the bed, placing neatly folded clothes into the suitcase in front of her.

"You're leaving?"

She looked up from her task and smiled. "I am."

"Wh-when?"

Betty sighed and walked to the foot of the bed, she sat down. "Tomorrow." She told him quietly.

Daniel slumped down next to her on the bed, staring forward blankly. "Tomorrow?"

"Daniel you knew I couldn't stay forever, you said yourself I should get back to my job. I only just got off the phone with my boss, two editors have left, they need me back." She twisted her head down and round, trying to meet his eyes. "I was gonna call you."

Daniel turned his head to meet hers and blinked rapidly, breaking his trance. He smiled and took her hand. "I know...of course I know you have to get back. I guess I've just got used to having you around again, always here to put me back together. God, Betty, you put your entire life on the back burner to come to my rescue...have I once said thank you?"

"You've kind of had other things on your mind."

He squeezed the hand, he held in his own, tightly and wrapped his other arm around her shoulders. He felt her arm go around his back and the two old friends hugged each other tightly; all too aware that soon they would be parting ways yet again for who knew how long.

"Thank you." He whispered in her ear.

Betty pulled back from him and sniffed loudly, her voice was low from the effort of not crying, it never got easier to leave your friends and family. "I'll see you before I head to the airport...I don't need to leave here 'til noon."

"Tell you what, I'll swing by in a town car and see you off in style this time. I didn't give you the best send off the first time."

Betty rolled her eyes and groaned, making Daniel chuckle. "Don't remind me, newly married Daniel and Wilhelmina was the stuff of my nightmares for months, you two were just way too..."

"Horny?"

She smacked his arm. "Ew, I was gonna say tactile."

"That's a fancy way of saying horny Betty."

Betty just continued to smile at her friend. "What?" Daniel asked her.

She shook her head, slowly. "You've come so far Daniel, you can talk about her, your life, your marriage...you smile now."

He nodded. "It still hurts Betty...I don't know if it will ever stop, but I can remember the good times now, and whether people believe it or not...there were a lot of them."

Betty squeezed his hand and whispered to him. "I believe it."

Daniel smiled gratefully and stood from the bed, placing her hand back down next to her. He didn't say goodbye, that was going to be hard enough tomorrow. He was almost out the door when she stopped him.

"Daniel." He turned to her. "I gotta ask, I'll kick myself all the way over the Atlantic if I don't." Daniel quirked his eyebrows up, giving her room to continue. "The thing Justin showed me on the internet this morning..._Wilhelmina to the rescue_ or whatever...did you two-"

"No." He cut her off. "No, we were just..." He laughed. "We were decorating."

Betty's voice shot up an octave. "Ew Daniel, is this another one of your codes? Like when I had to divert people away from the gift room at your own wedding because you two were in there 'unwrapping presents'?" She put air quotes around the last words.

Daniel laughed. "_Technically_ that wasn't a lie...and no, no code, just painting."

Betty nodded slowly, an amused expression on her face and her brows furrowed, still not quite believing him. "Painting huh? And how did that go?"

"Let's just say interior design is not our niche. I got some guys in finishing painting and furnishing now...thought I'd use the time to see if my favourite ex assistant wanted to grab lunch, but she's busy fleeing the country." Betty threw some balled up socks at his head and he dodged them, smiling.

"Seriously though...you and Wilhelmina? You're in a good place now?"

He nodded thoughtfully, biting his lip. "We're getting there."

_Why should we worry, no one will care girl  
>Look at the stars so far away<br>We've got tonight  
>Who needs tomorrow?<br>We've got tonight, babe  
>Why don't you stay?<em>

Wilhelmina sat behind her desk, the smoke damage in the room was minimal and the nagging guilt, she would never be free of, screamed at her that if she had only sought sanctuary in here then perhaps Claire would have lived.

_Stop feeling things Wilhelmina, there are some lines even Botox won't hide._

She smirked to herself, resigning herself to the fact that her subconscious would always conjure Claire's voice whenever she needed a kick in the ass. The office was nowhere near fully functional yet but coming here calmed her now as much as it had terrified her last night.

Mode was going to be reborn, and she was going to witness every step of it. The workmen had told her it would be weeks before the structural work was complete and before she could even think of having it redecorated and opened; but that didn't matter to her. She didn't want so much as a nail hammered into the wall without knowing about it.

She needed this, needed _Mode_, after abandoning it for so long, Wilhelmina still couldn't shake the feeling that this was her fault; her baby had acted out against her because she had taken it so much for granted. It wasn't just she who needed Mode.

"We need each other don't we?" She whispered into the cold empty room.

"Talking to yourself dear? Careful, it's a steady decline into scary cat lady territory from here on in."

Wilhelmina's mouth curled into a snarl and she had never wished more that she had something to hand to throw as Fey swayed into the room.

"Get out."

Fey dragged a chair to sit in front of Wilhelmina's desk and slapped the dirt from the seat, grimacing in distaste. She took her sable off and laid it upon the chair before sitting on it.

"You know, after wrongfully accusing me of murder I would think you could stand to be a little more cordial to me."

Wilhelmina leaned back in her chair and crossed her arms, surveying the woman just as she had done years ago. Fey smirked under Wilhelmina's intense stare. "My my, how the tables have turned."

"What do you want Fey? If you think you stand a chance of getting your claws back into Mode you clearly really don't know the first thing about me."

"Know you? Darling I _made_ you."

Wilhelmina laughed, the sound felt good in her throat and before she knew it the laughter was almost uncontrollable. "Still singing that old song are we? You didn't make me what I am, I did. You may like to think I needed your guidance, your help, all I needed was your name. A star to cling onto while I made my own; and I did it...and I can guarantee you mine will shine brighter and longer than yours."

Fey looked deep into her eyes and waited to see the usual falter in her stare that always presented itself when she crossed swords with her one time protégée. This time, no such weakness presented itself, only steely determination; she would never beat her again.

She clucked her tongue and huffed out a derisive laugh. "Why so hostile Wilhelmina, I just want a friendly chat." The sarcasm oozed from her every word. "Aren't you in need of a new sparring partner now that dear old Claire-"

"DON'T you say her name."

"Oh come now _Wanda_. You know I wasn't responsible."

"Maybe not directly."

Fey laughed again. "You can't possibly pin this on me now can you?"

"Oh I don't know." Willie began in a low voice. "Had you not faked your own death then I wouldn't have been pitted against Daniel, we wouldn't have developed the dysfunctional attraction we did and perhaps we never would have fallen in love...we never would have married...no cheating...no divorce...nothing distracting us...Claire lives. Or how about we go simpler? You don't abandon your child, she doesn't grow up feeling a rejected mess, she doesn't screw my husband to try and find some tiny shred of validation in her life and we're right back to no divorce, no distraction, and again, Claire lives."

"That's one hell of a stretch."

Willie shrugged. "Works for me."

"You can tell yourself that if you want, you can blame me for all the world's evils if it makes you feel better, but you and I both know better Wilhelmina." She leaned back further in the chair, craning her neck to look around the room, taking in the charred ruins of what was once the jewel in her crown. "Look what's become of you."

Fey was addressing the place that she still loved as passionately as she had done all those years ago, but her words might as well have been aimed directly at Wilhelmina. Fey brought her eyes back to Wilhelmina's and the two shared the same thought; they both loved this place and they had both found love inside it, and they had lost it too.

Fey continued to stare round the room, imagining it in all its vibrancy when she had ruled these halls, she felt a stab of grief for what it had now become and an unmistakable wave of anger towards the people who had let it crumble. "I thought I had left you in safe hands." She murmured, rubbing her hand along the arm of the chair, letting the feel of the place sink back inside her pores. She was no longer looking at Wilhelmina, in fact she may not even be in the room as far as Fey was concerned. Her eyes drank in everything surrounding her as she spoke to the place it had been hardest to leave behind. "I thought you would be put first, where you always should be...what did they do to you? What were they doing while you were falling apart?"

She was startled back to reality when she heard a loud exhale of derision from across the table, again their eyes locked. Before Fey could say anything, Wilhelmina was out of her chair and came swiftly around the table. Fey barely had time to register what was happening when she felt Wilhelmina's hand clamp around her wrist, she could feel her nails digging into her skin as she was wrenched from her seat and Wilhelmina dragged her unceremoniously behind her.

"Take your hands off me!" She yelled. Wilhelmina paid her no attention as she continued to move through the office at an alarming speed, Fey tripping over her own feet as she was forced to follow.

Wilhelmina came to a halt in the empty space between the two large glass fronted offices. She never loosened her grip on the other woman's arm, she tugged on it roughly forcing her to turn around. "You see over there!" She shouted, pointing in the direction of the glass partition that separated the styles department from the assistant's desk outside Daniel's office. "That's the place where I stood and watched Daniel in his office, that's where I was standing and it hit me that I loved him. Right there is where I had the single most terrifying moment of my life, when I realised I was in love with the one person I shouldn't be."

She dragged her closer to Daniel's office, "Or in there, where he asked me to marry him. Oh or I know, how about up here..?" She was off again, pulling her behind her, the pitch in her voice creeping upward as her anger poured out. "Here!" Willie shouted louder when they reached the circular desk. "Where you daughter sat and pined over a mother who dumped her, where she watched Daniel and I grow together. Where she saw us evolve and knew how much it almost cost us...yet she still stepped in to help bring it all crashing down."

Fey was scared into silence by now, she had never seen Wilhelmina so obviously on the edge. She dropped all attempts of resistance as she was, yet again, man handled around the office. "You see in there? She vaguely gestured to the large conference room. "That's where we all gathered to say goodbye to Betty, the whiny little pain in my ass that became so essential in making Daniel and I stronger; where we laughed and, god forbid, danced too and marvelled at how far we had all come. And oh THIS! You'll _love_this!"

Fey grimaced but stayed silent as she felt the nails pierce her skin when Wilhelmina continued her erratic tour of the office. As she reached the wall, Willie kicked out and opened the door in front of her. With one tug, Fey was out in the stairwell with her. "Look down there."

Fey stared at her with wide eyes. "I said LOOK DOWN!"

She swallowed and nervously did as she was told, peering over the edge of the rail. Wilhelmina brought her mouth up to her ear and her voice came out in a low hiss. "That is where Claire Meade died trying to save my life."

No other words were needed, she let go of her arm and instantly Fey brought her wrist up to her chest, cradling it in her uninjured hand. Wilhelmina was breathing heavily and Fey didn't know whether she was about to cry or push her over the rail. Involuntarily, she jumped when Willie stepped closer. "So that's what we were doing Fey...we were having _lives_. Not something you can appreciate, nor could I until you left the picture, but that's what we were doing. People were living...and dying. Now you have your answer, get out. You are not my mother, my mentor or my friend."

"So what am I?" Fey was surprised by the confidence in her voice.

Wilhelmina stepped closer still, and smirked. "You're the same thing you always were behind the Chanel and sunglasses...nothing."

_Deep in my soul, I've been so lonely  
>All of my hopes, fading away<br>I've longed for love, like everyone else does  
>I know I'll keep searching, even after today<em>

Sawyer hated himself for the manner in which he was acting, he had just hung up the phone with the security desk at the Meade building. Using a different name, he had checked that Wilhelmina was there; and that Daniel was not. His heart had stopped and for a second his suspicions came true when the guard informed him she was not in the building.

He released a breath, he hadn't known he was holding, when the man on the other end of the line told him she had just left, and that Mr Meade had not been in all morning. She hadn't lied; but then again, she hadn't lied to him yet had she? She had tried to tell him about the retreat but he had stopped her. When he asked her if anything had happened since, she admitted there had been something. She didn't lie about it, but it didn't stop her doing it.

He hated the person he was becoming, but he couldn't bring himself to walk away; nor could he make himself trust her completely. He knew he had become invested too quickly, he had practically moved into her apartment and had happily inserted himself into the void Daniel had left. He hadn't left her time to grieve over the relationship, not properly, and now he was in too deep to step back and give her the clarity she needed.

He couldn't stay in the limbo he was in, he either needed to believe in her, _in them_, or let her go. While the rational part of him told him that he should do the latter, he already knew he was going to listen to the irrational part; he would see this through.

He loved her.

Hudson started barking, his acute hearing picking up the sound of the key in the door, before it had even turned. By the time the door opened, the dog was behind it already bounding up at Wilhelmina before she could even get inside.

"As much as I love being greeted by a man drooling all over me, get down!"

The dog showed no sign that he had heard her rebuking and continued to leap at her. She tried to push him off with her knee, but he was no longer the tiny bundle he had been when Marc presented him to her and was getting stronger by the day.

Sawyer whistled through his teeth at Hudson and jogged up the hall to pull him away by his collar.

"Why doesn't this dog listen to anyone?" Willie pondered aloud, exasperated.

"Well they say a pooch will take after their master." He grinned down on her, still holding the struggling dog by the leather around his neck.

She made a face at him and he pecked her on the lips, which was made more difficult by the hound in between them. "Oh for God sake Hudson...fine...here." Sawyer pulled at his belt with his free hand until it came loose and he threw it on the floor. The dog jumped towards it, sniffed it and then curled up beside it, ignoring it completely.

"Don't push your luck Sawyer, if it isn't top brand, he isn't interested."

"Hey! I'll have you know that's from GAP."

Hudson's ears pricked up and he jumped onto his paws and scampered down the hall out of sight. "Watch your mouth." Willie scolded him, jokingly. "That word is like what B-A-T-H and V-E-T are to normal dogs."

He smiled at her, the connection of their eyes lasted a little too long and the smiles died away. Wilhelmina looked down at her keys, fiddling with the swirling silver keychain. When she had convinced him to stay last night they hadn't talked any further. She had simply slipped beneath the sheets and let him hold her, pretending to be asleep until she felt his breath even out. She knew he would want more of an explanation for her actions.

She started walking down the hall, moving past him slowly, still appearing mesmerised by the metal in her hands. "So I guess we have to talk huh?"

He grabbed her by the elbow and spun her back round to face him; his lips instantly crushed to hers as he kissed the breath right out of her. She rested her hands lightly on his biceps and felt his hands sink through her hair. He was holding her head so tight, she couldn't escape if she wanted to. He pulled away only when the need to breath became stronger than the need for her.

"We do." He said in a low voice, his chest rising as he took laboured breaths, his hands brushed the hair from her face, his eyes focussed on the top of her head. "But not tonight...how about tonight, for once, we concentrate on us."

She looked up at him and took his hands down from her face and held them in her own. "I'd like that."

"Good!" He said loudly. "I'll go see what I can cook up that will please madam's palate and won't offend her waistline. Phone taken off the hook and you turn that goddamn Blueberry or whatever it is off or I will bury it." He told her, smiling as he walked to the kitchen.

"Oh before I forget." He spun round in the doorway. "Marc dropped some videos off...said you wanted to go through them. He would have stayed and helped but he's got plans with Am-someone."

"With Amanda?" She smirked. "It's ok, you can say the name now, look..," she held her hands out and turned on the spot. "...it doesn't even make me want to throw things anymore."

With one last flash of that grin that made her fall for him in the first place, he disappeared into the kitchen.

Rolling her head on her shoulders, trying to ease some of the tension that had built since her impromptu visit from Fey, she walked down the hall into her lounge. Hudson was still nowhere to be seen, probably shaking in a closet in fear that she would try and give him clothes from a thrift shop. Fey's appearance had left her more shaken that she would like to admit. She could hold her off from Mode, she would fight her until her last breath, but she would be forever looking over her shoulder. She couldn't spend the rest of her life waiting for Fey to make another move against her; but what choice did she have? If she let her guard down for even a second, Fey would find a way to rip Mode out from under her in a heartbeat.

All thoughts of Fey were pushed to the back of her mind, she groaned when she saw the pile of video cassettes piled next to her television. "Do people even use VCR's anymore?" She asked herself, and then grinned when she saw Marc had set one up for her inside the cabinet.

Pulling a cushion from the sofa, she placed it on the floor and knelt on it, and pushed the first tape into the player. She fast forwarded most of it, it was nothing more than a montage of her walking down the runway, in various shows throughout her modelling career. She ejected it from the machine and tossed it on the couch behind her; she would let them use that.

As soon as the second video started playing, she caught a glimpse of Fey's face, she swiftly ejected it and placed it next to her on the rug. That was the pile they could _not_ use.

Sliding the third tape in, she could see straight away that it was more recent than the first two. She turned the volume up as she saw herself come into focus, a microphone in her face and camera bulbs flashing behind her. She was being interviewed on the red carpet for something she couldn't even remember.

"_So tell us Wilhelmina, after all these years trying to overthrow them, how does it feel to be Mrs Meade?"_

"_It was only a matter of time before I got a live one down the aisle, but Suzuki dear, don't call me that name, that's not me. Mrs Meade is the woman I'm forced to spend holidays with, making nice until I can convince my husband to put her in a care home."_

Wilhelmina watched herself laugh at the camera. Pushing eject sharply, she dropped the tape on top of the one with Fey in. She knew she had kept up the front for several months after the marriage, but even she was shocked at how easily it had tripped from her tongue, how she looked as if she enjoyed what she was saying.

The next tape showed a scene inside the Mode tent, again the camera was trained on her. This time Daniel had his arm around her.

"_And Daniel, what do you think of the first show your wife has put out by herself?"_

_Daniel opened his mouth to speak but Wilhelmina cut him off with a wave of her hand. "Oh please, the time for him pretending he knew the slightest thing about fashion is past now that he's safely locked in his penthouse making it look like he's in control."_

"_So you're no longer taking anything to do with the running of Mode Daniel? My Wilhelmina, some may think you're marriage may just have been the scheme that finally worked."_

_She laughed into the microphone. "Now that would be telling."_

She pulled that one out and slammed another one in hurriedly, stabbing the play button. No longer caring where the discarded tapes lay. Her breath became shallower with each image that came on the screen, she had lost all moisture in her mouth and she sat up on her knees and crawled closer to the screen.

She recognised this one right away, it was that night, _the_night, the night her marriage had fallen with the final blow.

"_And where is your husband tonight Wilhelmina?"_

"_Oh he's...around. Probably got lost somewhere between the champagne reception and going to collect my wrap...poor baby gets ever so lost if I'm not there to hold his hand."_

_The reporter laughed at her, eating up every word. "May I say you are looking fabulous as always, what pray tell is Mr Slater wearing tonight?"_

"_Whatever I told him to wear."_

She paused the tape, there he was, only feet behind her, taking in every word she said. His expression wasn't one of anger; no, that had bubbled over time on the ride home, he merely looked embarrassed, downtrodden and resigned to the fact that this was his fate.

She had done it, she had chipped away at him until he had almost nothing left inside. She had taken everything he had given her and turned it around to make him look a fool as he stood alongside her. They had both convinced themselves at the time that this was the Wilhelmina the media needed to see, but there was a line; and she took every opportunity to jump right over it.

She had made her husband question his own worth, she made him doubt his own abilities; both as a man and a spouse. The one person who was meant to bolster him, his wife, was the one person who slowly drove a stake through them.

She drove him to it.

She jumped up from her position on the floor, sending tapes scattering as she did so and ran from the room. She grabbed her car keys from the table and swept out the front door.

The lift was already on her floor, letting someone out, she pushed inside and pressed the button for the basement. Her legs carried her without thinking, on auto-pilot. She was in her car, engine revving and tearing out the parking garage in what seemed like only seconds since she had pressed pause on that screen.

And not once did it occur to her that she never said goodbye to Sawyer.

_So there it is girl  
>We've got it all now<br>And here we are, babe  
>What do you say?<em>

Daniel stood barefoot in the room his father had used as his study. It was an imposing room and it still held the air of foreboding it had when he was a child. He had only been sent to disturb his father in this room when he had misbehaved, whether he had been a five year old child or a twenty five year old screw up. Standing here, he still felt that heavy shame mixed with fear that you got when you were a kid and sent to the principal's office. The master bedroom was finished and he was now certain that this was the next room to get made-over.

Daniel tilted his head, staring at the walls lit only by the reflection of the lights on the lawn outside, trying to decide what colour to paint it. Wilhelmina had always been the one to make those sorts of choices, from his penthouse office to their home, she was the one with the eye for it. He couldn't exactly ask her opinions now.

Maybe he could? Hadn't he said to Betty just that afternoon how they were nearing a good place with each other? Hadn't she come to him and spend the afternoon by his side? He pulled out his phone and hovered his finger over the speed dial for her number. He contemplated the small device in his hand. Before he could decide for or against calling her, he heard someone running up the staircase outside.

The footsteps were quick, much quicker than the housekeepers and he was pretty sure that she didn't wear stilettos to go about her jobs in the manor house. He heard doors along the corridor being slammed open and closed, Daniel took a step towards the door, just as his ex-wife appeared on the threshold; breathing heavily and clutching her side, trying to regain her breath.

"Willie...what are-"

"I need to know." She spoke laboriously, through great gulps of air. "How...how could...how could you?" She bent forward a little, holding the door frame, still trying to bring her breath under control.

Daniel watched his wife struggling and longed to walk to her, hold her and help her regain her composure. Instead he set his jaw firm and swallowed; this was it he thought, this was the talk that they had been promising each other for so long now. Something had snapped and now she wanted it all on the line, she wanted answers; she wanted to know how he could ever do what he did to her.

"How could you have ever loved me?"

Her question caught him off guard. "What?" Of all the things he was expecting to hear from her, this was not one. He moved towards her, still not fully recovered from her sudden appearance mere seconds after he had been thinking of her.

She held out a hand, shaking slightly from exertion, to keep him at a distance. "You heard me Daniel. How?"

Daniel flapped his mouth wordlessly. "I...I just do."

"No! That isn't an answer. I sat in my living room tonight, watching interview after interview of me being a monster...to you, in front of you, ABOUT you. How Daniel, how could you stand to be around me?"

Again he tried to walk for her and again she struck out her hand. When he looked in her eyes he saw them shining, her lip wavering ever so slightly. "Don't..."

"Willie, I don't know what you want me to say?"

She dropped her hand. "I...I want you to say I didn't destroy us." She took a deep shuddering breath. "I want you to say I didn't beat you down." He heard the unmistakable break in her voice that told him she was losing the battle to keep it together. "I want you to say I didn't drive you to sleep with another woman."

"You didn't."

"Don't say it just because it's what I want to hear." She shook her head and he saw a solitary tear slide onto her nose.

"I'm not...what you did, who you were...Willie I knew it all and I was the one who agreed to the trash talk in the first place. I guess I just got to a point where it was too much. I tried telling you but you..."

"Didn't listen." She finished in a hollow voice.

Daniel didn't deny it; it was true. He stepped in and this time she didn't push him back, he grabbed her shoulder. "You didn't destroy us Wilhelmina, _we_did. Our egos, our temperaments, our stupid pride was our downfall." She tried to pull away but he held tight on her shoulder and pulled her back. "Hey...hey...look at me." He whispered, dipping his head to meet her eyes. "Whatever you did, anything you may have said, all the stupid fights we had...nothing excuses what I did." His whispers were loud in the silent room.

"But I-"

"No, Willie, we may have been slowly ruining what we built, but I put the final nail in the coffin. You need to stop blaming yourself for everything that went wrong between us, what I did...it was unforgivable."

"I forgive you."

Daniel's head snapped up when the words tumbled from her mouth. The three words he had been so afraid he would never hear. A warmth he had long forgotten spread through him when the weight of what she said sank in.

"Do you mean it?" His voice was barely audible and felt foreign to his ears, afraid she would take it back.

She didn't tell him again, she held his stare in her own and nodded her head slowly. "What about you?"

"What about me what?"

"Can you forgive me?"

He smiled down on her. "It's not a matter of forgiving you Willie...it never was...I love you."

She shook her head, squeezing her eyes shut, looking down. "I still don't know how you can."

Daniel brought a finger under her chin and lifted her head upwards until he could see the light from outside reflected in her eyes. "You don't get it do you? How could I _not_?"

They stood there, his hand had moved from her shoulder to hold her behind her neck, her own hands were hanging uselessly by her sides. Somehow they had gotten so close they could feel each other's breath on their faces.

A shrill ring made the both jump in the stillness of the room, breaking the moment. Daniel looked down to the source of the noise clutched in her hand, he could clearly make out the caller ID on the screen: Sawyer.

He released her and took a step back, Wilhelmina studied the phone for a second; her finger over the button to answer, before moving it over and sending the call to voicemail.

"This isn't fair." Daniel told her evenly. "To him, to me, to you, you can't keep running to me only to run back to him when it gets too real. You pull me back every time I feel like I might finally be getting my head straight, and the messed up thing is I'll always let you."

"I know."

"You have to make your choice."

Daniel wouldn't look at her, preferring to stare into the corner. He didn't trust himself not to try and touch her again if he looked in her eyes. He couldn't bear to watch her walk away again, to _him;_ only to come back again when she had another moment of weakness. He didn't want to, but he had to stay away. She had to choose once and for all.

"I have."

The two words seemed to reverberate around the room and as much as he had been pushing for this moment, he suddenly found that he didn't know if he wanted to hear the next words out her mouth. He wasn't even aware he was speaking when he felt his mouth move and form a singular word.

"Who?"

The phone in her hand rang again, looking at it she ran her thumb over Sawyer's name on the screen. She could feel Daniel's eyes burning a hole through her.

She rejected the call.

Time seemed to stretch out in front of him; the few feet between them, which should have been covered in seconds, seemed to take an age for her to cross. Finally she stood in front of him, there was no falling into each others arms, no over the top passionate clinch; just the gentle brush of her fingers against his. That simplest touch said more than words could have.

Wilhelmina linked her fingers through his and took a slow step backwards. He took a step to join her and she turned, still holding his hand and made her way to the door. He followed her as she led him down the corridor, neither speaking a word, neither wanting to risk shattering it all.

Daniel's eyes were fixed on the back of her head as she led him, opening the door to the room they had occupied the day before. Dimly, she registered, that the room was in a much better state than they had left it yesterday. The low light from outside illuminated the now decorated walls, Daniel's possessions were stacked in boxes in the far corner and the furniture in its place. How funny, she thought, that your mind seemed to play such attention to the insignificant things such as these, when you were in the most defining moments of your life.

She stopped in the centre of the room and turned to face him, they were no more than a foot apart and she let go of his hand. Daniel remained stock still, not quite daring to believe it. With a small step she closed the distance between them and tilted her head upwards to looking into the eyes gazing down on her.

With the smallest shift of her head, her bottom lip brushed against his top one; only when he felt the contact did Daniel lower his head, letting his lips run over hers. No other parts of their bodies touched, just lips on lips gently caressing. She closed her eyes and focussed only on the way his mouth moved against hers; it was rediscovering her.

When her lips parted and he felt the briefest trace of her tongue against his lips, something snapped, something within him woke up needing more and his hands shot up to hold the back of her head, his thumbs resting on her cheeks as he deepened the kiss. She grabbed onto the front of his t-shirt and twisted her fingers in it, kissing him back with matching fervour.

Wilhelmina heard him release the quiet groan he had been holding and started pulling at the hem of the garment. Daniel's hands left her hair and flew onto her own, stopping her. She pulled back from the kiss, questioning him with her eyes.

"It's been too long since I've been able to do this, without worrying about other people, without the guilt, without the feeling in the pit of my stomach that it's all temporary. It's been too long since I've been able to just kiss you."

And so he kissed her; he kissed her as if the world was ending, and she let him. She let his thumbs trace over the contours of her cheekbones as his teeth pulled her lip into his mouth. She let him get lost in his act, and she was right alongside him; lost in the moment that was not about easing each other's pain, distracting each other from their guilt or helping each other through their grief.

For the first time, in the longest time, it was about a two people wanting nothing but the person they loved.

She had no idea how long they stayed like that; seconds, minutes and hours meant nothing to her right now, but as their bodies pressed tighter together it was clear that kissing alone was not enough. She pulled at the shirt again and this time he raised his arms, pulling his mouth away for only the small space of time out took her to lift it over his head and let it fall out if sight.

She splayed her hands on his chest and he began to walk her backwards, slowly, towards the bed. His mouth latched onto the curve of her neck as they moved. Daniel's hands moved seamlessly over her shoulders, pulling down the straps of her dress and pushing if further down her body with every step they took.

He pushed it over her hips and it too fell to the floor, stepping out of it she felt her back rest against one of the pillars of the grand four poster bed which now dominated the room. His mouth left the place on her neck and came back to her, kissing her full on the lips. Daniel's arms ran over her shoulders and down her arms. He broke the kiss and looked down, still moving his hands down her forearms, he brought her hands up level with his chest and linked his fingers with hers on both hands.

"What are you doing?" She asked him gently, her voice was husky and low.

Daniel looked at her again and ran his hands back up her arms, he brought his head back to the crook of her neck, letting his bottom lip run up it to her ear. "He's all over you." He whispered and switched to the other side of her neck, repeating the process. I don't want there to be one part of you that I wasn't the last person to touch."

His words and the tone behind them sent a shiver straight through her body as his hands moved to her back, trailing lightly over every patch of skin her could reach. Wilhelmina tilted her head upwards when she felt his mouth on her throat, his tongue running down it at the same time his fingers unclasped the fastenings of her bra. His mouth continued its descent and the satin undergarment slid from her, out of sight.

Wilhelmina squirmed against him when the tips of his fingers grazed up and down her sides while his long lazy kisses moved to the valley between her breasts. The last time she had been with her husband she had stifled her cries for fear of being discovered, there was no such fear now and she exclaimed loudly when his lips moved over her breast, teasing her as his hand mirrored his actions on the other side.

She moaned his name, low in her throat and the sound seemed to urge him further, he moved to bend on his knees and roamed his lips over the flat expanse of her stomach, his hands now running over her spine at the small of her back. Her hips bucked involuntarily when Daniel grazed his teeth over the top of her underwear, snagging it lightly in his teeth, pulling on it and letting it snap back against her skin. She felt his hands cup her ass and squeeze, pulling her ever so gently closer. Daniel hooked his fingers in her underwear and slid them down her legs, massaging the skin on her thighs and calves as he did. He lifted each foot in turn for her to step out of them. Moving no quicker than he had on his descent, he worked his way back up her body, Wilhelmina didn't notice she was holding her breath until she released it in a shuddering gasp when his tongue darted out quickly and pressed against her, tantalizing her for the smallest second.

Her body cried for more but he was already slowly coming to his feet, every inch of her seemed to call out for more of him and suddenly his face was back level with hers. Wilhelmina's skin was already on fire where he had touched her and her chest was rising and falling deeply from the level of arousal no one but her husband seemed to incite.

Daniel's eyes were dark as they stared into hers, she moved forward, no longer leaning against the post and pressed herself against him, colliding her lips against his. She could feel his length pressed against her thigh through the thick fabric of his jeans. He was straining painfully against the denim and groaned when she popped the button and quickly released him from them.

She wanted to give him the same attention he had her, but her body wouldn't allow it. She needed him now, Daniel certainly didn't seem to mind the swiftness of her actions as she pushed the jeans and boxers to the floor, wrapping her hand tight around him. His head fell back and a guttural sound leapt from his lips as she stroked him.

Wilhelmina turned her body and lifted her legs to kneel on the bed behind her. Her hand left him and his hungry eyes were trained on hers as he followed her, moving on to the bed and resting on his bended knees.

In one swift move, which stole the breath from her lungs, his arms circled her waist and pulled her to him. She straddled his bended knees and placed her hands at the base of his neck, holding his head close to hers. Daniel moved under her and watched her eyes widen as he entered her. She sank down on him fully and her head lolled backwards at the feeling of completion she had missed. Daniel rested his head against her chest and for a moment didn't move, letting them both revel in the sensation.

When her need simply wouldn't let her wait anymore she slowly rocked against him; Daniel held back from moving, allowing her to set the pace, biting his lip from the strain of staying still. She rotated her hips quicker, feeling her skin sliding over his. She was still holding the nape of his neck tightly, when she realised he was motionless. She shook her head, knowing instantly he was trying to give her the control. "No." She breathed heavily against him. "Together."

Daniel didn't need telling again and crashed his lips to hers, rising up to meet her. Just like always, they were in perfect time; they fit together perfectly since the first time they had been together, like two missing pieces of the same puzzle.

The tightening behind her navel came quickly and she felt the pressure increase with every long upward thrust of his hips. Her body was becoming out of her control as she rose and fell with more force; Daniel's fingers squeezing into her thighs told her he was as close as she was.

Looking into Daniel's eyes and seeing everything laid completely bare in them, his love, his lust, his need, was all it took and the tight coiling feeling in her abdomen burst when he drove up into her. Her body went rigid in his arms and his name was ripped from her throat. Hearing her scream his name, Daniel felt the tremor run through his body, he brought one hand up from her hip and sank it into her hair. He pulled her head back to him and pressed his lips against hers, kissing her with everything he had left as he came, her body still rocking above his as she rode out her climax with him.

Even as they came down from their highs they didn't extricate themselves, instead placing lazy kisses on each other. Wilhelmina dipped her head and Daniel placed a kiss on her forehead, in that moment they noticed they were both shaking. "I love you...I never stopped." She whispered still looking down.

She looked up at him with hooded eyes and smiled languidly. Daniel kissed her again, slow and long. "Stay?" He asked her. She nodded, there was no question. "Sleep." He told her.

She shook her head rapidly. "No." She breathed. "If I sleep then it will be morning and morning means I'll need to go back home and deal with the mess I've left there...I don't want the morning to come yet." Daniel nodded at her, pushing her hair behind her ear. She leaned in and started kissing him again, subconsciously she began moving her body in time with her kisses and after only minutes she felt him start to stir again. "I just want tonight." She whispered against his ear.

_We've got tonight  
>Who needs tomorrow?<br>We've got tonight, babe  
>Why don't we stay?<em>

"You guys, I really have to get home, I still have stuff to pack before I leave and if I miss my farewell breakfast Papi will kill me."

"Park it Suarez." Marc grabbed her arms and pulled her back down to sit at the table, Amanda grinned and refilled the three drinks.

"Are you sure these are non alcoholic?" Betty spluttered around a mouthful.

"Of course!" Amanda confirmed. "Well the mango, the pineapple and the seltzer are...the vodka, not so much."

"Amanda!" Betty whined while Marc snickered, taking a deep drink of his own drink.

"Oh calm down, it's your last night in NYC, you think we're gonna let it go unnoticed?"

"Marc...you two were already drinking when I arrived." She raised her eyebrow at him.

"Whatever." He drummed his hands on the table. "Hit me!" He yelled at Amanda who dutifully places a shot glass in front of all three.

"No, no guys I can't go through a nine hour flight with a hangover...I'll die."

"Drink it!" Amanda ordered, lifting the shot. "To Betty...and her return to middle earth to live among the hobbits."

"To Betty!" Marc echoed and raised his glass, they both looked pointedly at Betty until she sighed and copied them.

The three downed their drinks and each gave a shudder and a little cough when the alcohol burned the back of their throats. Betty became solemn as she watched her two friends and she smiled sadly at them.

"What? Why are you looking at us like you're about to tell us you have an incurable disease...ew do you? Is it contagious? Marc I drank from her glass!" Amanda rubbed her face hastily along Marc's sleeve, ridding it of imaginary Betty cooties.

Betty ignored the typical Amanda ramblings. "I just liked being around you guys again...I hate not knowing when I'll see you next."

Marc stirred his drink with his finger. "Don't worry your puffy little head, it's only a matter of time before Amanda beds another married man and you need to come stateside to help clear up that mess." Marc ducked out the way of the ice cube Amanda launched at his head.

"I'm kidding! I'm kidding!" He laughed, Marc folded his arms on the table and rested his chin on them. "Wow...look at us." He grinned at each of them. "All the crap the past few months have put us through and we managed to come out the other side; a little worse for wear, but we're here."

Amanda nodded. "Betty's going back to London, you've moved back in...it's like nothing changed."

Marc took her hand over the table and all three friends looked down, each thinking the same thing; everything _had_ changed. Claire, Mode, Fey were all irrevocably changed, they wouldn't be able to go back in the building without remembering that one of their own had died there or that one had attempted and failed to make their triumphant return.

Not to mention Daniel and Wilhelmina, things had changed between them forever. Amanda would never fully let go of the guilt she felt when she thought of the union now in tatters, Betty would never forgive herself for not realising her friend had been in such a bad place before it had all blown up. And Marc, Marc had spent too much time questioning himself; what if he hadn't been so malevolent towards Daniel, what if he had taken a back seat and not placed himself firmly in between the couple. Would things be any different?

"You think they can go back?" Amanda asked quietly, no one need to ask who she meant.

"No." Betty answered. "But maybe they can go forward."

Marc smiled, leaning back in the chair and grabbing the bottle of tequila again. Ignoring the protests of the other two as he sloshed it into their shot glasses. "One more." He said.

"Marc..."

"One more!" He insisted.

When the two women raised their glasses to join him, he smiled at them both. "To going forward."

The three glasses clinked in the air over the table.

_I know it's late and I know you're weary  
>I know your plans don't include me<br>Still here we are, both of us lonely  
>Both of us lonely<em>

She lost count of the number of times and ways she had let him love her that night. She was exhausted, physically and mentally, but she still would not let herself succumb to sleep. Every time she felt it closing in on her she would reach for him again, and he was always more than happy to oblige.

They had had nights like this before, and not just at the beginning. Every so often they would still find themselves awake as the sun crept over the horizon, neither having realised so much time had passed. She loved those nights, not only for the time they passed physically, but for the small hour in the morning after it. When their bodies were spent but they could remain in the darkness talking about anything and everything; or even nothing at all, content to lie silent and focus on nothing but the beating of the other's heart.

She was lying on her stomach, the sheets stopping around her waist; Daniel lay on his side beside her, absentmindedly trailing his fingers up and down her spine.

"What will you tell him?"

The phone had ceased ringing hours ago but they both knew who Daniel was talking about.

"The truth." She answered quietly. "Anyway, don't let that accent fool you, he isn't stupid. He'll see what I was watching before I left and let's be honest...it wouldn't take a genius to figure out our crepuscular activities."

"Our what?" He laughed.

Wilhelmina sighed. "Night time Daniel...buy a dictionary."

"You couldn't have just said night time?" He continued laughing.

She propped up on her elbows, leaning in close to his lips. "I could have...but I like to dazzle people with my conversational skills."

"Willie when you're lying in bed with someone...I think it's safe to say you've already dazzled them."He kissed her, his lips curved in a grin.

Her head fell back against the pillow, looking at him side on and Daniel scooted closer, lips nuzzling her shoulder. "He loves you."

"He loves the idea of saving me, there's a difference." She whispered. "I was a project, something to rebuild. One day he'll look back on the two of us and chalk it up to a mid life crisis or something...I dunno."

"Mid life crisis?"

"Don't scoff...I seem to remember someone buying a motorcycle for their fortieth." This was the banter she loved between them, how their conversations could flow seamlessly from serious to silly.

"Hey it's a scary number! Everyone does something stupid when they hit that age. What did you do?"

"Married you."

Daniel laughed loudly and turned round, pushing harder against the side of her body. "Willie...you were many a thing when I married you..._forty_ was not one of them." He was still laughing when he felt her pull the pillow from under her head and smack him with it. He chuckled and bit down lightly on her shoulder.

Wilhelmina let out a contented sigh at the feel of his lips on her skin again and twisted toward him; her exhaustion dissipating once again. She brought her lips to his and rolled them back on the bed. Once on top of him she broke the kiss and sat up in his lap.

Daniel ran his hands up and down her thighs and smiled up at her. "I will quite happily stay here and do this for the next 72 hours if that's what you want...but don't you have someone you need to talk to?" He asked her in a low voice, not really caring what her answer was as long as she kept touching him the way she was.

"I told you, in the morning." She bent to kiss him again and she felt a vibration against her lips as he chuckled. "What?"

"Willie-" He turned his head to the side. "...look."

She turned her head to where he was staring and felt her insides drop when she saw the sky outside was turning a light blue.

It was morning.

_We've got tonight  
>Who needs tomorrow?<br>Let's make it last, let's find a way  
>Turn out the light, come take my hand now<br>We've got tonight, babe  
>Why don't we stay?<br>We've got tonight, babe  
>Why don't we stay?<em>


	31. Stone Hearts and Hand Grenades

**Stone Hearts and Hand Grenades**

_You were like the crash of thunder  
>Echoed through my darkest nights<br>You awaken all my senses,  
>Made me feel alive<br>Even if we try to fight it  
>We know that the sparks will fly<br>Cause in the end where just two  
>People, Destined to collide<em>

It was a Sunday morning; a warm, bright Sunday morning in April. The sky was clear, not a single cloud obstructed the path of the sunlight, and the cold wind that had attacked New York throughout the winter had slowly been replaced by the cool breeze, so typical of summers in the Hamptons.

The furs, the scarves and the gloves were back in the closets of the city's population, as they left room for sundresses and shorts. The leaves on the trees, on the streets, were green again, and the shadow they cast on the sidewalks was the only shelter from the blinding light of the approaching hot season.

Wilhelmina asked herself when on Earth the weather had changed, because as far as she remembered it had been very cold until just the night before. Or maybe the truth was the transition had been there, they had just missed it, too busy feeling cold inside to pay attention to the sun warming the world outside.

And could it be that today, after what had happened with Daniel, she was simply more willing to let the heat in, let the sun melt the ice she was accustomed to? Could she be a small step closer to the suffered happiness they'd all been reaching for, never quite getting it, in the last months?

No. She wasn't happy. She still didn't feel free of the burden she had been carrying; lighter, yes, but not free. She felt guilty. Not because it happened, but for how it happened. So many times had she reprimanded Daniel for what he had done, but what she had been doing was worse. Much worse.

Daniel had betrayed the woman he loved for a meaningless fling. She, on her part, was guilty of keeping two men hanging by a thread…Only one of whom she could honestly say she loved back, and that was the only man she had vowed she would never let herself love again.

What could ever make her feel better? Where could she start, to make amends for everything? How could she go back to the start, before the madness had begun?

"Wilhelmina," came the voice from the French window. She turned around and looked at Daniel, stepping out under the sun, on the terrace, next to her. He smiled and extended his hand. At first she thought he was offering his hand for her to hold it, but then he opened his fist and revealed the keys to her car. "It's time."

Wilhelmina didn't take her eyes off the keys for a long minute, knowing once she took those keys it would be it, she would have to do all she had procrastinated for so long. Everything, she would do it today. She would put her life together, in one day.

She grabbed the keys and went back into the room. Daniel frowned and followed her inside, sliding the window closed. "Wait," he said, and she turned. "What about…How…What do I do now?"

Wilhelmina bit her bottom lip and stared him down. "Meet me at 7pm," she said. "At the Empire State Building." Daniel raised an eyebrow, but she lifted a hand and smirked. "Cliché, I know. Just do it, ok?"

He opened his mouth to respond, but before he could speak she closed the distance between them and kissed him, quick but hard. When she pulled back, they looked into each other's eyes and she nodded. "Wait for me."

"I will always wait for you," he responded, because it was true, he always would. No matter when or where, he would always be there, waiting for her to come back where she belonged. He would wait, a thousand years if he had to, but he would wait for her, because he knew eventually she would come back.

"7 o' clock, Daniel," she repeated. "Be there."

With a swift movement, she left his embrace and left the room, leaving him alone. He looked at the antique grandfather clock near the fireplace and sighed. He had felt at a loss as soon as her body had been out of reach.

It was noon.

_Like stone hearts  
>And hand grenades<br>You and I, Are not the same  
>There is nothing I would change<br>Where stone hearts  
>And hand grenades<em>

Betty Suarez dragged her last suitcase down the stairs. With every step, she could feel herself distance herself from the reality of New York again, going back to the new person she had become. Every step detached her from Daniel, Wilhelmina, Marc and Amanda, but not from her family, whom she would always carry in her heart, wherever she would go.

And in fact, when she reached the last step, and turned around, there they were, the three of them. Her father, teary-eyed, looked at his daughter as she left to go back to her new life. Hilda, who was so proud of her little sister, because despite all those times she had said people like them "never see their dreams coming true", she had succeeded. And Justin, the little boy who had become a man during her absence, so confident and sure of who he wanted to be.

But this time, it would not be that hard to go. The first time she had been devastated; now, everything was different. She knew going away didn't mean abandoning them, it meant creating a life for herself, a life they would always be a part of, even if miles apart.

"No tears, Papi," she exclaimed.

"No tears," he said, wiping the corner of his eye. "But promise you'll be back soon."

"Papi, I was away for six months," Betty said, dragging the suitcase down the last couple steps. "I think the next vacation they're gonna grant me will be retirement."

"Just call me, and I'll smack them down," Hilda exclaimed, placing a hand on her hips and snapping loudly.

Justin stepped forward and grabbed Betty's suitcase, dragging it to the door. "I'm gonna help you with this," he said, opening up the door. He straightened up when he saw a pair of familiar moccasins on the welcome mat. "I can't believe this," he said. "I'm never going to get rid of you."

Daniel smiled and took a deep breath. "We're back together."

"WHAT!" came the strangled cry from the adjacent room, and Betty came running into the hallway. Justin was still petrified on the spot.

"You heard me," he exclaimed, smiling widely. "We…She forgave me!"

Daniel glanced at Justin, and before he could say a word, the boy leapt forward and hugged him. "Welcome back into the family!"

Daniel hugged the boy back, his eyes travelling to Betty's, and he could see the happiness in there too. It was sincere, genuine, she had always rooted for them, their marriage. She had always known they would make it, and they did.

Justin pulled back, embarrassed by the display, and made grand gesture of snatching the pin off his trousers and throwing it over his back. Daniel giggled and looked down at the suitcase. "How would you like being escorted to the airport in a Lexus?" he offered, jubilantly.

"How would you like a yes!" she exclaimed, throwing her hands up in the air, in an impromptu choreography; Justin was more than glad to join, and before he knew it, Hilda was next to Betty too.

Daniel just watched, amused, as the younger generation of Suarez danced their heart out, but there in the middle of the little dance he found Ignacio's eyes, on the opposite threshold, and saw that he was smiling at him.

"Ok, let's hurry, my flight leaves at 6 o'clock!" Betty said, suddenly. She hugged the family, whispering kind parting words to each one, and on the threshold she turned around for a last glance into the old family house. With a smile, she closed the door.

Daniel and Betty walked to the car, and Daniel handed the bag to the driver, telling him to go retrieve the other ones from the cab parked on the other side of the street.

They remained on the sidewalk, Daniel and Betty, both beaming.

"I'm happy for you," she said. "I'm happy for you both."

Daniel looked up to the sky.

"I'm sure my mother had something to do with this," he said, chuckling. "I'm sure she must have been busy, up there, trying to talk sense into Wilhelmina. I don't know why, maybe dreams and visions and stuff but…She did it. Wilhelmina forgave me. And now everything is going to be fine."

Betty nodded and opened the car door to let Daniel in. She followed and sat next to him, settling in the comfortable silence for the first part of the ride. Then, out of the blue, Daniel turned to her and, with a huge smile, he said: "I'm proud of you."

She was taken aback. Many times he had said that he was proud of her, but she never would have imagined he would tell her in that circumstance. And still, despite everything, he found a place for her, and something told her no matter where she was, he would always do.

She had been his pet, after all, the little girl he whose hand he had held not only when he needed help, but when she did too. People stressed how much she had been helpful, but they seemed to forget too often how the man had helped her, standing next to her every step of the way. He had watched her grow, not only as a journalist, but as a person, and most of all as a woman. He had impacted her life in ways people had no idea of, probably because they could never get it.

For them, Daniel would always be the eternal screw-up, but for her, Betty, Daniel was the one person who had guided her throughout the process of getting to know herself, and learning what she really wanted from life. She would always be grateful for that precious companion.

"When I get back," she began, "I want to see you as happy as ever. I want you to be the happiest person on the planet. And I'll be happy too. Let's make a vow, Daniel. Next time we see each other, we must be accomplished. We must have what we want; we must be where we want. Next time we meet up, we're going to say we're right where we wanna be."

She stretched her arm out and offered her hand to Daniel, who nodded and took it. "We will."

_All my lonely  
>You blow it all away<br>And when you need me  
>I will keep you safe<em>

Amanda threw the last toy into the box and sealed it. Without the baby stuff scattered around the room, the place seemed much bigger, but also emptier. However, she didn't see it as a loss. She saw it as a growth. What had happened had helped her understand who she really was, and most of all she might have lost the chance at a life, but she had gained the chance at another one.

A life with her mother.

Fey was not the mother she had always dreamed of, she would never hug her and cuddle her while she cried, and she would probably never tell her she was pretty no matter what. But she was there, and it was more than she'd ever hoped. After discovering her natural mother was dead, she had given up on the idea of being Fey Sommers' daughter, but now, discovering she was alive, gave her the chance to a fresh start. And this time, she would not be alone.

"So, that's the last box I think?" Marc asked, from the table where he was sitting, his legs crossed on another chair and a Martini in his hand.

"Yes and thank you for helping out," she said, sarcastic.

"Mandy, I've been of great assistance with my witty personality and cheerleading qualities. Not to mention my striking good looks!"

"Yes, yes," she said, lifting the box and adding it to the others, next to the door. "Now, will you help me bring them down? The guy from the store will be here at 1 o' clock."

Marc nearly choked on his drink. "You mean you're not throwing those away? You're _returning _them?"

"Of course, I want my money back!" Amanda exclaimed casually.

"But Mandy, there's stuff _Hudson _chewed on, in there!" he said, with his hands in his hair.

"They're not going to know until they open it, right?" she said, smirking.

"Oh, Mandy," he whispered, chuckling.

"Thank you, Barry Manilow," she stated. "Now get your ass off that chair and help me out with these."

However just before he could get up, there was a light tapping at the door. "Oh look," he said, leaning back and putting his hands behind his head. "The guy came upstairs."

Amanda shook his head and tried to open up with a serious expression, but she couldn't and halfway she burst out laughing.

But the laughter died on her lips.

"Wilhelmina."

Marc nearly fell off his chair in the attempt to get up and run next to Amanda, on the threshold. There she was, Wilhelmina, looking confident and relaxed. "Willie," he whispered. "Did you call me? I don't have my phone on."

"Actually," Wilhelmina said, "I'm here for Amanda."

Amanda took a step back. "You want to kill me?"

Wilhelmina snorted. "Of course not." She peeked over their shoulders, into the apartment, and shrugged. "Are you going to let me in or what?"

Amanda and Marc exchanged a look before stepping aside and letting her in. She walked into the apartment and before Amanda could close the door Wilhelmina turned around and shook her head.

"In private, Amanda," she said. "Marc, would you mind?"

"You're not going to really kill her, are you?" Marc asked, laughing as if he knew what he was saying was preposterous, but still with a hint of concern.

"I'm not going to kill anyone, Marc," Wilhelmina said, practically. "Look, I'll meet you at Mode at 3 o' clock."

"Mode? But why?" he insisted.

"We need to discuss stuff for the new plan," she exclaimed. "I think I'm going to use Daniel's old office, when I get back, so we need to arrange it."

Marc nodded and leaned in to give Amanda a quick peck on the cheek. "I'll talk to you later," he said, reassuringly. Then he turned to Wilhelmina. "See you in a bit."

And with that, he left.

So there they were, the two women, looking at each other, neither willing to make the first move. The tension was dense, and they kept at safe distance, one out of fear, the other because she didn't know if she could trust herself.

Wilhelmina was sure of what she was about to do, and she was not going to let her pride get in the middle of Mode business. So she just spit it out.

"I want to offer you a contract."

Amanda's eyes widened and her jaw very nearly hit the floor. "I'm sorry?"

"Yes, Amanda," Wilhelmina said, spelling out each word clearly. "I'm here because I am going to…what was it, in _The Godfather_? Oh yeah, make you an offer you won't be able to refuse. Or something like that."

"You do know the guy ended up killing a lot of people, right?"

"Oh for Lord's sake, Amanda, stop shivering, I have no intentions of going to jail for a zilch like you."

Amanda frowned.

"Yes, Amanda. I'm not giving you a job as a peace offering. What I'm doing is strictly professional," Wilhelmina explained, to be sure the girl didn't get the wrong idea out of her proposition. "Are you willing to hear me out?"

Amanda nodded, because there was nothing she could do. She wasn't in the position of turning a job down, especially not when it was coming from the only person who had the power to reinstate her back into the fashion society.

"I want you to work at Mode, as a stylist," Wilhelmina said, taking a two-paper document out of her bag. "Two years, for now, but it's extendable. That is, of course, if you can resist going and screwing other people's husbands for that long."

If it hurt, Amanda didn't show it. She was Slater immune, in a certain way. She was prepared for the attacks, she could handle it.

"Where's the catch?" Amanda asked. "I know you wouldn't give me something like that if your life depended on it. Unless, of course, you want something back."

"I don't want anything back," Wilhelmina said, smirking. "But especially, I don't want you back. This," she said, handing her the contract, "is a job offer. And it's for Mode…" she paused. "UK."

Amanda didn't immediately take the file Wilhelmina was handing out. She just looked at it. "You mean London?"

"I mean London, United Kingdom, far far away from New York, far away from me, and far away from Daniel," Wilhelmina hissed.

"Are you banishing me from Manhattan?" Amanda asked defiantly.

"No, I'm giving you an easy ticket out of this situation," Wilhelmina said. "You can start a new life; the rumor of your role in my divorce is only marginal overseas. And I'm willing to write a letter of recommendation to the Editor in Chief. All of this, if you leave this island. All of this, if you take the plane I booked for you, at 6 o'clock this afternoon, and get out of my life."

Amanda slowly outstretched her own arm and took the papers in her hand. There was a contract, which only needed her signature to be considered final. There was a flight booked at 6 o'clock that same evening. And there really was a recommendation letter, signed by Wilhelmina herself.

"You want me out of your life…but what about mine?" The girl's voice was low, but determined. "Then, what about mine? For thirty years, I've known nothing but New York. All my friends are here. My work is here. You think I'll just up and leave town?"

"The only friend you have left in New York is Marc," Wilhelmina said. "Where were your so called friends during the hard times? Hiding, behind the backs of those people who had more power. And your work…New York's fashion elite has banished you from existence. You only managed to get that short-time position at Isabella because Penelope Greybridge would do anything to bother me. And how much did it last? You're done, in New York. And you know it. What's keeping you here?"

Amanda lowered her head. "My mother."

Wilhelmina snorted. "Your mother? The mother who remembered your existence only when she saw a trace of hope that she might get her hands back on Mode?"

"She came here to help me," Amanda said. "She decided to come back here before Claire's…Before all that happened. She came here for me, not for Mode."

"How can you be so naive?" the older woman asked, bewildered. "You really think she's here out of genuine concern? Fey Sommers cares for no one but herself. And, maybe, her magazine. Trust me, I would know."

"You don't know her," Amanda said, smiling bitterly. "But it's ok. You don't have to. How much time do I have to make the decision?"

"The plane leaves at 6pm. You have next to 5 hours to pack." Wilhelmina turned around and headed to the door, opening it. She turned, on the threshold, and with her eyes fixed on the contract Amanda was still holding, she sighed. "You should take it. There's really nothing left for you in New York. And even the little that is, I'll make sure it's gone, if you stay. But if you go…Then we can work this out."

Amanda's legs were shaking, so she had to sit down. She brought a hand to her mouth and bit down on her nails, meanwhile her eyes studied the papers.

It really was the chance to start again.

"You know the answer already," Amanda whispered.

_After all the dust has settled  
>We lift each other of the ground<br>I carry you a million miles  
>I'll never let you down<br>There's a lot of strength in weakness  
>There's a lot of truth in lies<br>But in the end where just  
>Two people, Destined to collide<em>

Marc checked the watch again. It was three o' clock, still no sign of Wilhelmina, and he was getting worried. Had it been wise to leave the two women alone? He wasn't sure. He tapped his foot on the cold tiles, and it echoed between the walls of the empty offices. On Monday, the offices would be once again crowded, only it wouldn't be the Mode employees. Dozens of workers were ready to work their magic to bring Mode back to its old shine.

He rolled his eyes and decided he would not wait longer. Something wasn't quite right. So he stepped in front of the elevator, but had to stop when the doors opened and revealed Wilhelmina inside. He smiled and sighed in relief. Her clothes were not covered in blood.

"Ok, let's talk about this office!" he exclaimed, following her through the halls of a place that seemed now so unfamiliar. She was smiling and stopped when they were standing in that spot, near the conference room, where they had a clear visual of Wilhelmina's office and the room that used to be Daniel's old office.

"I'm going to use the corner office," she said, pointing to the room on her left. "It's been empty for far too long, and it's only fair I finally use the office that has been occupied by every Editor in Chief for the past 80 years."

"Done," he said, making a gesture in the air as if taking notes on an invisible bloc notes. "Anything else? Furniture?"

"Oh, we can just take the furniture from my old office and move it in the new one," she explained. "We need to make room anyway, for the new Creative Director."

"Ooooooh, you found one finally?" Marc exclaimed. "Who is it? Is it a man? I have to tell you, Mode really lacks in gayness. I mean, every magazine has its gay guru, and you are, sorry to say, anything but gay."

Wilhelmina chuckled. "I'm sure you'll find the candidate appropriate," she said, walking toward her old office.

"Is he a former model?" Marc asked, close behind her. They stepped over the threshold of the room, and stopped in the middle of the room. Marc was going on about a number of people he thought might be suited, but Wilhelmina was not listening.

"No," she said. "Marc, do you like this room?"

Marc looked right and left, and then furrowed his brows. "You know I do. Why are you asking me?"

"Because I want to make sure the new Creative Director likes his office. I mean, I don't want to spend the rest of my life satisfying his needs, God knows he's a little diva. I really want to make sure this room is enough, for him."

"Oh, I think this room will be just-" he stopped in the middle of the sentence.

It was a fraction of a second, but he got it. He got what Wilhelmina was trying to say, and he had to restrain himself from slapping himself. They stood looking at each other for an eternity, Wilhelmina held the boy's stare with a kind smile.

"Willie," he said, breathless.

"Marc, I…I've thought about how to thank you, for what you did. I've thought of giving you a raise, a new credit card, an unlimited fund at , but nothing seemed enough. Nothing, in the world, seemed enough to tell you how important you are to me, to us."

Marc was speechless. He kept shifting his stare from Wilhelmina to the walls that surrounded, those walls that had seen so many of their schemes, those walls that had seen him serving her dutifully for four years.

"Now I know what I want, Marc," she said. "Finally, I know what I have to do. I've reached the denouement, at last. I know who comes first, in my life. And that's thanks to you. That's because you never stopped being by my side, telling me what you honestly thought, unafraid of speaking your mind. I owe it all to you."

"It was nothing, really," he said, looking awkwardly downward. He wasn't used to such displays on her part, just like he wasn't used to seeing her cry, or shake, or doubt herself, but this ordeal had taught something to all of them. People are never just this one idea you have, people are complex, people have more than just one truth to them.

"It meant the world to me."

Marc smiled back and shrugged. "So…"

"So…" Wilhelmina opened her arms, in a symbolic gesture, as if she was offering what had once been hers, to him. "This belongs to you, now. You're the new Creative Director. Be sure to treat it like you would your own life. Make me proud, just like I know you can."

Marc was beaming. "I don't know what to say," he said, fighting the urge to hug her. "I'll be sure to carry on your legacy."

"No, Marc," she said, and it startled him. "I'm not going to make the same mistakes Fey did. You're a whole different person, you're better than me probably. I want you to fight me when you feel like I need it. I want you to tell me I'm a stupid, that I'm wrong, that I'm obsolete. Don't be afraid of me, be my friend. Be my friend, and we'll put out the best magazine the history of publishing has ever seen."

Marc just couldn't find words to say, because what she was giving him was much more than a simple _thank you_. Today, she was giving him the chance to make it without her, to make it on his own and show her what he was capable of. He was getting the free light to get out from under her wing.

"Don't cry," she said.

"I'm not crying," he said, just a tear rolled down his cheek. "I'm just…it's a really bad conjunctivitis." He wiped the wet trail with the sweater's sleeve. "It's that time of the year, allergies everywhere."

Wilhelmina placed a hand on his shoulder. "We'll be the best of teams." Then, as if remembering something suddenly, she checked her clock. "I have somewhere I have t go, now," she said. "You better start thinking about how you want this room, and talk to the contractor. And for God's sake, stay away from fuchsia and leopard print. This room had to endure enough that one time, with Alexis. Have mercy."

Marc nodded, enthusiastically, and when she turned to leave he stopped her, calling out her name. "Where are you going?"

She opened her mouth, forming a little o, then bit her bottom lip. "I'm taking my life back."

_Like stone hearts  
>And hand grenades<br>You and I, Are not the same  
>There is nothing I would change<br>Where stone hearts  
>And hand grenades<em>

The two women, who had shared so much, stood staring at each other, a safe distance in between them, a distance that was covered with regrets and remorse. Wilhelmina Slater and Fey Sommers had been silent for the past five minutes, after the former had showed up on the latter's doorstep. Fey didn't know why she was there, but she knew she couldn't deny her what seemed like a goodbye.

The second he'd seen her, she knew there was something final in the way her eyes pierced right through her. She hadn't questioned her, simply let her in and gave her the time to find the words to say what she was there for.

Fey moved and walked up to the cabinet behind her, pouring herself something strong: something told her she would need it. With her back on Wilhelmina, she looked down on her glass, untouched, and sighed deeply. There, in the clear liquid, lay all her doubts and questions, words she couldn't say out loud because she felt it wasn't her time to speak, not this time. She owed her that much. Raising her hand slowly, she circled her glass, but she didn't raise it. The coolness of the material was a nice change from the warm guilt that threatened to overcome her.

Fey had never been one to concede mercy. However, this time she had to recognize that what Wilhelmina had gone through was something she would not wish her own worst enemy. And all the past dreadful things he'd said to her came to the surface, on her mind, all those awful memories of how she had tried to bring her down only to keep her strong, to make her _her._ She knew, now, how wrong she had been trying to turn her into a copy of her own self, how the woman's life had been affected by her own behavior, and how many things Wilhelmina might have spared had she been different.

"How would you like to take the position of Editor in Chief of Mode UK?"

Of all the things Fey had thought Wilhelmina would say to her, that evening, that had not crossed her mind. She didn't turn around, taking a sip from her drink instead. Then, placing the glass back on the cabinet, she let her arm fall back down her side and closed her eyes.

The words swirled in her brain, as she tried to find a meaning in all that. After all, Wilhelmina was still giving her another chance. She had never really believed she would go back at Mode, she realized it just now. She had never really believed she would ever be back at the top, that was really not why she had come back, and not why she had come out to the world with the truth, eventually. All she had wanted was to find her way back to her own daughter.

"Why?" she asked.

Wilhelmina didn't speak, and Fey turned around. There was something in those eyes, something she wasn't used to because it was not what she had ever wanted to be there. _Humanity._

"I can't ask you to disappear again," Wilhelmina said simply. "You're here, and despite my bitterness there's nothing I can do to pretend you're not. You're here."

Fey couldn't tell if it was her imagination, or if there was a bit of relief in how Wilhelmina had pronounced those words.

"When I thought you'd died," Wilhelmina started, swallowing loudly. "It was hell, for me. We were never friends, I know it, you know it, but you were the only thing that kept me tied to that place. You were the one who helped me, when I was no one, and I don't care if you did it for your own purposes. I don't know if you did it because you saw something in me, or maybe you believed in me…and maybe, it was just because I happened to be there. But it doesn't mind, you were there. You hired me, you taught me well. Then, you saw the struggle in me. You saw the exterior didn't match the inner me, and you took care of that too. Again, I don't care why. You got me into modeling. You got me into Mode. You made me the person I am today, you made me stronger. And if you forget the last period, that was useful. I hardly ever suffered when people betrayed me. I stopped crying a long time ago."

Fey opened her mouth but Wilhelmina shook her head.

"When you died, I felt lost," she continued, and despite the efforts her voice broke. "I was alone amongst the lions, and I had to prove myself to people who, unlike you, never believed I would have made it. Those people who thought I was only there because you would always save my ass. But I managed, without you. I found my way into their minds, and I got them thinking I was worth it. I was slowly becoming you." She took a step forward and sighed, trying to keep the emotions under control. "Then Daniel came along. And he changed me again."

Fey smiled.

"What everyone's been telling you, it's true. I'm no longer the Wilhelmina you knew, I'm a different person. I'm no longer you."

"I'm sorry, Wilhelmina," Fey said.

And they both knew it was true. After all, Fey Sommers admitted her role in Wilhelmina's downfall.

"If I had known, then, that what I was doing to you would be so radical…I would have stopped." Fey licked her lips, and looked down. "I think what I was trying to do was…Compensating for the loss of my daughter. I saw something of her in you. I tried to be the mother I knew I should have been to her, and I made all those mistakes mothers do. I forged you, when all I had to do was let you be yourself."

"I don't want your apologies," Wilhelmina said. "All I need…Is for you and Amanda to get out of my life. Because if you're here, Fey, I'm scared to death I'll go back to being _you_. And that's the last thing I want."

Wilhelmina opened her purse and took out a folder similar to the one she had given to Amanda only few hours before. She held it for a while, looking down at it, then took a few more steps forward and handed it to her just like she had done with Amanda.

"I offered Amanda a contract with Mode UK," Wilhelmina said. "You can both find what you've lost, there."

Fey took the folder from Wilhelmina's hand but she didn't avert the woman's eyes.

"If there ever was, in you, the slightest hint of affection towards me, Fey," Wilhelmina said, looking her dead in the eye. "Go. Both of you."

"When does the flight leave?"

"6 o'clock," Wilhelmina answered, coolly.

"That's less than an hour," Fey said, but there was no anger in her voice.

"Then I suppose you should start getting ready," Wilhelmina replied. "Amanda's on her way here to pick you up."

Fey frowned. "How did you know I would accept?"

Wilhelmina smiled. "I may have changed, Fey," she said. "But you have not. I still know you better than anyone out there."

_All my lonely  
>You blow it all away<br>And when you need me  
>I will keep you safe<br>All my lonely  
>You blow it all away<em>

Betty turned the page of her magazine lazily. She wasn't really reading it, just watching the pictures; her mind was miles away. She was glad what she was leaving behind was better than what she had found when she'd first gotten there. Daniel and Wilhelmina were in a better place, Fey and Amanda too. Things were looking up, and she didn't feel guilty leaving anymore. If anything, she was happy to go back to her new life.

Then she heard the loud voice, announcing the opening of her gate, so she folded her magazine and thrust it in her handbag. She threw it on her shoulder and stood up, but when she looked up she stood still on the spot, watching three familiar people drawing closer.

"You didn't think you could go without saying goodbye, Suarez, did you?" asked Marc when he was within earshot.

She smiled but her eyes were drawn to the other people standing before her. "Amanda…" she whispered, "…and Mrs Sommers."

Amanda smiled widely and with a great gesture she pointed to Betty and Fey. "Betty, meet my mother," she exclaimed.

Betty was dumbfounded. "It's an honor, Mrs Sommers," she said.

Fey nodded unconvincingly.

"You didn't have to come all the way down here," Betty said, returning her stare on Amanda and Marc.

"Oh, actually we did," Marc said. "See, I couldn't let this little one go," he said, sneaking an arm around Amanda's shoulders and holding her against him tightly, "Not without saying a proper goodbye."

"Let go?" Betty asked, confused. "What do you mean?"

Amanda's smile grew wider and she took a hold of Betty's hand. "I'm going to London." She turned to her mother and sighed. "Actually, we're both going."

Betty's eyes moved from Amanda to Fey, and back to Amanda. "You mean…"

"I mean, you're staring at the new Editor in Chief of Mode UK," Amanda said. "And the newest addition to the Mode UK styling team."

"But, Wilhelmina…"

"Funny you should mention her," Marc chimed in. "She was the one to suggest it. And by the way," he leaned in and grinned, "You're also looking at the new Mode creative director."

Betty's mouth fell open and she squealed. "Oh my God you guys!" she clapped her hands. "I'm so happy for you!" she yelled, and launched herself at her friends, enveloping them in a tight hug that they both returned.

"We're awesome, aren't we?" Marc said.

"We're so awesome it's sick," Amanda replied over Betty's shoulder.

"We're too awesome," Marc exclaimed, excited.

"_Really _awesome!" Amanda continued.

"Enough!" Fey said, rolling her eyes.

Betty let them both go and her eyes were wet.

"Oh, don't cry," Marc said. "I know you must feel terrible because you're once again less important than us, but I'm sure your little magazine is good too," he said. Betty slapped him on the arm, laughing. "Ok, ok, you can still call us once in a while," he exclaimed. "But only if our agendas are free."

"You're so stupid," Betty said, between tears. "I'm so happy for everyone, everything tuned out for the best. I swear I thought we would never see the end of this, and instead…Look at us, we all are where, and with the person whom with we should be." She wiped her tears. "It's incredible."

"Yes, yes," Fey said. "How about we catch this flight, now?" she exclaimed. With a swift movement, she grabbed Amanda's hand.

"Wait," Amanda said, and slid her hand out of Fey's. She turned around to Marc and smiled sadly. "This is not goodbye," she said, her eyes welling up too.

"Of course it's not," he said. "As the new Creative Director, I'm gonna have to do plenty of trips to London," he exclaimed, placing his hands on Amanda's shoulders. "You know, just to be sure you don't screw up."

Amanda nodded. "I'm sorry for what I put you through his year," she whispered. "There was a moment I thought we wouldn't make it."

"Are you kidding me? We are Marc and Amanda, we're always gonna make it, as long as we0re together," he said. He was putting up a brave front, but Amanda saw right through him, and she saw he was fighting hard not to let the tears flow.

"I love you," she said, throwing her arms around his neck. He held her tight and smiled in the crook of her neck. "An ocean won't keep us apart."

"It won't."

_Like stone hearts  
>And hand grenades<br>You and I, Are not the same  
>There is nothing I would change<br>Stone hearts  
>And hand grenades<br>Stone hearts  
>And hand grenades<em>

She waited. With a nervous glance at the clock, she saw her time was running out; it was six o' clock, she only had one hour to get to the Empire State Building. But she had the hardest task of them all ahead, the one thing she had decided to do last because as much as she knew she loved Daniel, her own heart ached at the idea of what she had to do to Sawyer.

As the thought of him occurred in her busy mind she heard the noise of her apartment door and the all too familiar yapping as a bundle of blonde hair came running towards her, the leash still attached to his collar, clearly too eager to say hello to the woman he hadn't seen in over twenty-four hours.

Wilhelmina bent and welcomed him with wide open arms, relishing in the warm feeling of _her _dog, so happy to see her and who loved her so unconditionally. As she stroked Hudson's fur, she stifled a sob, and she didn't know why but those big dark eyes were making her lose it after she had fought to keep it together.

When she heard footsteps coming closer she looked up and saw Sawyer on the threshold. He met her eyes for the briefest moment before he walked into the room and went straight past her, not giving her another thought. She stood up, freeing Hudson of his collar, and let it fall to the ground.

"Sawyer," she said, tiredly.

He didn't even answer, so she followed him into the kitchen where he was rummaging in the fridge, moving things around harshly. She waited for him to stop doing that, but he didn't; she knew he wasn't really looking for anything, except for an excuse not to look at her.

"Are you done raping my fridge?" she asked.

He slammed the door shut and turned to look at her. The steeliness in his eyes almost frightened her, but she decided to let it go. He had every right to be mad at her, furious even. She deserved it, and she would get all he wanted to throw at her.

"No," he said, simply.

"Suit yourself, then," she said, crossing her arm. "But I'd rather you took it out on me, than my kitchen."

"I'm done with you," he replied. "I'm tired of you, and your…I don't even think you can call that reasoning. You stopped reasoning a long time ago or maybe you just never did."

He tried to push past her but she didn't allow him, stopping him on the spot. "Talk to me," she insisted.

"I'm sick and tired of talking. You know, I just wish _you_'d talked to me before going behind my back and _screwed _you ex husband, but maybe it's too much to ask for in the twisted world of Wilhelmina Slater."

"Wait," she whispered, as he managed to circle her and leave the room. She walked after him and saw him standing in the middle of the room, waiting for her to speak. "I'm sorry."

"You're not," he said, with a bitter smile. "If you really were, you'd have told me how you felt; you'd have given me the chance to hear the words from you instead of getting there on my own. You'd have had the decency to talk to me, face to face and tell me what I've known all along."

"And that would be?"

"That you're I love with him, you've always been," Sawyer said. "That we were never really a reality you took in consideration. We were just something you hung onto to give a sense to your life in a moment when it seemed to have lost all of it. You would have told me."

Wilhelmina sighed deeply, and lowered her stare to where Hudson was witnessing the angry exchange. He had a curious look on her face that almost made her smile.

"Tell me one thing only," Sawyer asked. "Was it worth it? Throwing it all away for someone who broke your heart, stomped all over you without giving it a second thought, who broke you so you were the shadow of yourself for all this time?"

She didn't answer.

"I never meant to hurt you," she tried to explain. "This was out of my control. When I saw the tapes, yesterday…I realized it had been me who had mined the marriage, long before Daniel gave it the final kick. I was the one who had to apologize before he could. And now too… I know it's my fault. All this time I thought I was the victim, but I know now I've been the one who was wrong all along."

Sawyer snorted and raised his hands. "Spare me, ok?" he said. "I'm not going to listen to another episode of _The Woes of Wilhelmina Slater._ I've had enough to last e a lifetime." He passed a hand over his forehead and shook his head, looking upwards. "I've tried, Lord knows I've tried all in my power to help you. I made it my mission, you were my first thought in the morning and the last one before sleep. Even though I knew. I've always known. I just tried very hard to ignore it."

"THEN WHY DIDN'T YOU SAY SOMETHING?" she exploded. "Why did you take all of this, why didn't you slap me out of it?"

"BECAUSE I WAS IN LOVE WITH YOU!" he yelled back.

Hudson suddenly walked in between the two of them, facing Sawyer, and growled, showing his teeth like he'd never done to anyone before. Wilhelmina looked down at the dog and tried to find something to answer, but she couldn't.

"What are you going to do now?" Sawyer asked, lowering his voices, probably taken aback by Hudson's protective reaction.

They both stared each other down; it was Wilhelmina's turn to speak, but she didn't. She just licked her lips, and swallowing loudly she shook her head, even though she didn't know what it meant.

"You're going back to him?" he asked.

Wilhelmina couldn't help but notice his tone had softened. The anger was gone: his eyes were full of sadness and, in some way, acceptance of the final kind, that kind where you know there's no turning back. Like when you say goodbye to a dying relative. Both knew this was goodbye, forever.

Sawyer took in her silence and nodded.

"As much as I would like to hate you, right now," he started, "I can't. I hope…I only hope you did the right choice. I hope you got what you wanted and are happy with it." He went to leave but something stopped him.

"Thank you," she had whispered, so low he wasn't sure she had meant for it to be actually heard.

"For what?" he asked, not facing her.

"For not making me drown," she said.

It was the way she had spoken those words that eventually made him turn around, and the single tear he saw in the corner of her eyes that made him walk up to her and throw one arm around her shoulder and pull her into him. He looked ahead, as she placed her hands on his sides. He pulled her tight, closing his eyes and forcing the tears that were building up behind his eyelids to go back where they should be.

"I never stood a chance, and you know it too," he said.

She pulled away, and he freed her as soon as he felt her retreating; he took a step back and she wiped the tear from her cheek. He saw that the Wilhelmina Slater he had fallen in love with had been just the shell of who she really was, and he had underestimated that detail. She had warned him, he had ignored her words hoping by that time that woman resurfaced they would be solid. It had been a foolish mistake.

"I mean it, when I say I never meant to hurt you in anyway," she said. "I really did all I could. I tried to make me love you but it wouldn't be fair to you. You deserve someone who really loves you, not some old woman clinging onto you to survive."

Sawyer nodded and looked around. Then, he crouched down and Hudson was hesitant to let the man stroke him this time. Eventually, he let Sawyer get closer, and even licked his hand when the man stood back up. Wilhelmina was watching the scene, and the first thought that crossed her mind was she would need a new dog-sitter. Only this time she would choose a twelve year old with an acne problem, she had had enough of blonde studs.

"I better be going," he said.

For the following hour she watched him, in her bedroom, collecting all the small things he had left there, proof of his presence in that place. Not only his clothes, but small things like a toothbrush, a bathrobe, even that peculiar coffee mug he liked to drink coffee from in the morning. Everything went into his overnight bag, and the room, the whole apartment actually, suddenly changed. Now, she recognized it. Now, it had gone back to being her place.

He picked the bag up and they both walked to the entrance door, Sawyer ahead, Wilhelmina and Hudson close behind him. The dog was confused; it had happened before, to see Sawyer leave, but this time even Hudson knew he wouldn't see him again.

"Take him out at least three times" Sawyer said, glancing sadly downwards at Hudson's muzzle. "Remember to wait at least one hour, after he eats, to take him out or play with him. And try to keep the water dish fresh, they need to drink a lot…"

He was stalling, but the door behind him was open wide and nothing could keep him there anymore.

"Take good care of him," he said, gravely. "He really likes you."

"Yeah…" she nodded. "I don't know why, people to seem to like me more than I deserve, these days, apparently," she added, smiling apologetically at him.

"You don't know yourself," he explained. "You don't see it, Wilhelmina, but there's a list of things that are good about you. I could tell you a thousand." And with that, he turned around and Wilhelmina called the door slowly, remaining alone with Hudson in the apartment.

She checked the hour again: 7 o'clock; she was not irremediably late, so she picked up her keys from the sidetable and was about to head out when something, something that had been buried for a long time, made its way to the surface and she halted her every movement.

She remembered something she had told Fey, and realized what she had been too afraid of for years.

One hour later, she sat on her bed, well aware that in that precise moment Daniel was leaving the Empire State Building, alone.

_All my lonely  
>You blow it all away<br>When you need me  
>I will keep you safe<em>

The sound of leaves beneath her soles was the only thing that could be heard in the surroundings, the only exception was the sound of the green tree tops gently shaken by the summer breeze. The sky was dark but clear, the stars shone bright over the grass, illuminating the white gravestones.

She walked amongst them, sad remembrances of the beloved ones who leave us; the panting dog who walked beside her didn't have a clue what he was doing in such a weird place that late at night. That was not the usual itinerary of his walks.

There, higher than all the others stones, was a tall, white monument, its candor standing out against the darkness around it. And at its feet, was the shadow of someone crouched down. She stopped, and Hudson did too.

"You might want to stand up," she said. "You're gonna ruin your suit."

As Wilhelmina drew closer, the moonlight cast its light over the features of the person who was standing up and brushing the dust off his trousers. He turned to her and the smallest smile crossed his features.

"You didn't show up," Daniel said.

"I know, she responded, shrugging. "But I'm here now."

"I'm listening," he said. "I know you have something to say."

Wilhelmina nodded and ordered Hudson to sit. He didn't obey of course. Then, she returned to look at her ex husband. "I ended it with Sawyer," she began. "I offered Amanda and Fey a job in London, and if my calculations are correct they're on a red-eye right now, on their way out of our lives. Sorry if I didn't consult you, but I assumed you would say yes."

"You assumed correctly," he said.

"And I gave Marc the position of Creative Director," she continued. "You'll agree we had the right candidate before our eyes all this time."

"I suppose so," Daniel agreed, chuckling.

"I have had closure, in any aspect of my life," she said the tone changing drastically. "The only thing that remains to be defined is me and you. It's the hardest part and that's why I didn't show up, earlier. I needed to think."

The breeze picked up suddenly, filling their silence with the noise of the leaves raising from the ground and swirling around them. Daniel nodded, knowing she needed to be encouraged to talk if he wanted the truth.

"I think I've never loved anyone like I love you, Daniel," she said, shaking her head, defeated. "The way you changed me…it's admirable. You managed what no one ever had; you made me regain faith in something I had stopped believing in. And I thank you for that."

"But…" he whispered, slowly understanding.

Wilhelmina smiled. "But…Before we find that comfort zone again, I have to put myself back together. I have always been someone else. I've been what my parents wanted me to be, and then I was what Fey had taught me to be. And when you came along, I became what you'd made of me. Through all these years, I think I've never been who I wanted to be, who I really was. And until I manage to be at ease with who I am, until you see who I am, we'll never be solid."

"What are you saying?" he asked, more relaxed than she'd expected him to be.

"Daniel, we skipped some important steps in our relationship," she stated. "We went from hating each other to some sick obsession that we defined as love. I like to think, eventually, what we felt for each other had become love but… we were never friends. We're missing the foundations, here, and that's why it ended."

Daniel nodded. "So, you left him, but you're leaving me too?" he asked, moving his stare over the golden letters engraved in the tombstone.

"I'm not leaving you," she explained. "I'm taking a step back, and I'm asking you to take that step back with me. I'm asking you to get to know the real me. And if by the time you have, you still like me, love me even, then we'll know it's the right thing for both of us. Only then we'll know it's not only something we want, but something we need."

"So, you want us to be friends." He chuckled. "You know, that sounds even weirder than the two of us being married."

Wilhelmina smiled, glad he was taking this well. "I know," she agreed. "But if this works, it will be worth it." She took a step forward and outstretched her arm, offering him her hand. "Are you with me?"

Daniel looked down at her hand, a million thought crossing his mind. Two hours earlier he had been sure later that night they would be living together happily again, and now there she was offering him her friendship, offering him to start over with the right foot. She wasn't giving him any warranty, not a certainty. She was offering him a load of doubts, but he felt relieved somehow, in a way he couldn't even explain himself.

So he took her hand and shook it, and it amazed him to realize it was only the second time they'd done that in their life together, the first being when he'd met her for the first time when he was eighteen. It was so different. He wasn't holding her hand, he was getting to know her again.

"Thank you," she said.

Her hand slid out of his and she turned on her heels, Hudson behind her, headed to the tall iron gates of the cemetery. Daniel glanced at his mother's gravestone for one last time before running after her. When he reached her she smiled.

"Uhm, since we're friends and all, now," he said. "How would you like to join me for dinner this weekend?"

Wilhelmina chuckled. "This is the worst pick-up of my whole life," she exclaimed. "I don't know, Hudson and I might have plans. We do need to find a new dog-sitter. A close friend of ours convinced me to get rid of the last one," she said.

"I heard there are a lot of twelve year olds in need of a job," Daniel exclaimed as they walked

"That's what I thought," Wilhelmina smirked. "You know, Hudson is a miniature you," she added. "You should have seen him earlier; he nearly bit Sawyer's head off."

"I've always liked that dog," he said, and as if he'd heard it Hudson yapped happily. "So, how about that dinner?"

"This weekend, you said? And where would you take me?" she asked.

Daniel thought about it, or at least pretended to, and then he smiled widely. "I recently became the proud owner of a beautiful villa in Aruba. I thought we might spend the weekend there. Well, it's only half mine, the other half belongs to my ex wife, but she's not gonna be there. She doesn't enjoy beaches and sunbathing, she says it hurts your skin."

"She's a smart woman."

"You have no idea."

They jumped on Wilhelmina's town car, under the surprised stares of a few people passing by. People who had read of the Ice Queen betrayed by her Charming Prince, people who had read about her break-down and about his woes. Those people had followed the fairytale, the ups and downs, sometimes they had felt for them too.

And they were all pleased, when they saw the smiles on their faces, like in every fairytale, as they left.

The woman.

The man.

And the dog.

_All my lonely  
>You blow it all away<br>When you need me  
>I will keep you safe<em>

_**Final Notes**_

**Dardeile:** It's not easy. I don't even know where to begin, so I'll just start by saying this is probably the hardest to write, both for me and Kirsten. It's been a proper discovery of the human mind; we covered themes like betrayal, forgiveness, mother/son relationships, the death of a mother. And we did it all trying to stay true to the characters, and sometimes putting a little bit of ourselves into them. We like to think of this story as a full circle, a proper exploration of the characters. They all grew up, following their paths, crossing the other, each and everyone, and learning something new from each other. The ending to this story was the most complicated, because we simply couldn't decide. A blatant happy ending would have been boring, dull, and we don't like that. We even contemplated the possibility of an alternative ending, but eventually we went for a somehow open end. You can decide if they got back together, if they got married again, or even if they simply remained good friends and decided they were better that way. I know some of you will hate us for this, but we had to do this. There's a reason, and this is the hardest part. I'm not sure all of you will read, but I hope you do because it's important. We didn't write a definitive ending because we want to give you a chance to imagine it to be what you like, we wanted to give everyone the ending they wanted, and this was the only way to do that. And that's because Kirsten and I have decided this is it. This is the best story we have ever written, this is the one fanfiction we gave our all to, and we don't think we can, nor want to, top this. So, like someone once said, "Step back when you're still on top." The truth is, Ugly Betty has given us so much, but we feel like it's right to stop here. We will write again, only not for Ugly Betty. Perhaps, in three years time, we will want to revisit this characters and write again, but for now it's goodbye to these characters. Let me say it's been a joy to write these characters, to the point I think of them as friends, people I know more than I do my closest friends. It'll be hard not to write Wilhelmina again, but what consoles me is the fact that she is such a great character she'll never really be out of my system, as I'm sure goes for all of you too. There might never be again a character such as her, for me, but it's ok, because she gave the best fangirling years of my life. Of course, this means "Where it all began" has been deleted, and although with an heavy heart, I have to interrupt "Have a little faith in me" too. But I'm not deleting that one, because maybe one day I will want to finish it. Just, not know. For now, I'm done. Now, I'll let Kirsten say what she wants, give you her reasons too for this decision. One more thing I'm grateful to Ugly Betty for, is the people it gave me the chance to meet. Kirsten, you are the best and I'm sure whatever is in store for us, it will be awesome. Just know, we'll never stop writing together. =)

**QueenWillie: **I don't really know what to add to this, I've sat staring at the blank page for about 20 minutes now. I loved this, every little tortured bit of it and the fact that it's over pains me. I love this story, these characters, this ship, the show, and the writing partnership I gained through it all. I don't even feel that calling this a 'story' does it justice, I could throw out some other words; this chronicle, this novel even, but for both of us it was more than just a story. Stone Hearts and Hand Grenades has been the most wonderful yet emotionally draining thing I have ever had to write and I'm thankful that I had dardeile right alongside me for when this tale dragged me down with it. You see, many of you have used words like incredible, epic, fantastic etc, well you can only write something that gets this reaction when you put a bit of yourself into it. When we wrote our first joint venture together, we said it was as if the characters spoke through us. For this I feel it was somewhat different, you feel yourself almost _becoming_ them. You feel sad when they feel sad and you empathize with each and every one of them. The decision to stop after SH&HG was a long time coming; maybe it's because the show's been over for seven months, maybe it's because we wrote so much for this ship in such a short period of time; most likely it's because this particular story took it out of us, and I don't mean that in a negative way; if it hadn't then it would not have become what it is: a story I will eternally be proud of.  
>This, along with Bite the Bullet, started of as a simple idea of Dardeile's; Daniel and Wilhelmina marriedDaniel cheats. The girl was not going to be Amanda, Sawyer was not as prominent as he became, there was no 'pregnancy' to begin with. This story grew and grew on a chapter to chapter basis and if you could only see the notes we both had saved on our computers from our endless conversations planning this, tweaking it, moulding it until we felt it good enough to put out there; until it felt true enough for our characters. Ending now is hard, there is still so much in my head that I want to put down about these two but, to be honest, I don't feel either of us, together or separate, will top this. I feel an enormous sense of pride for this story and saying goodbye to it is more difficult than saying goodbye to the show. Like dardeile, I'm not saying we will never revisit this ship/fandom/best-goddamn-couple-ever. I still have a Work In Progress to finish and I think I need to plan a little something else to help me say goodbye to this; but as for Dardeile/QueenWillie joint danimina fic? If it does ever happen again then it will likely be a long long time from now. For all those who read, reviewed, cried, laughed, loved along with this fic; thank you. For anyone who might be sad that it's all over; channel your inner Wilhelmina! Remember Slater's don't cry…except in an angsty fic of course, but I digress. Ugly Betty: I knew shows could bring like minded fans together, could give you characters you loved and bring a little brightness into your life; you did all of this and I thank you. One thing I never expected you to do however, was get me a friend for life. Dardeile; love you, simple x

Bye Danimina, _we loved you_ x


End file.
